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THE 


OLLY DIALOGUES 



BY 


ANTHONY HOPE 


/ 
y\ 




AUTHOR OF “the PRISONER OF ZHNDA,” “RUPERT OF HENTZAU,” ETC. 


WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

HOWARD CHANDLER CHRISTY 



NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

1903 





Copyright, 1901, 

BY 

ROBERT HOWARD RUSSELL 

6^0 

^ 0 ^ 


CONTENTS 


PACK 

1 . — A Liberal Education 9 

II. — Cordial Relations 16 

III. — Retribution 24 

IV. — The Perverseness of It 31 

V. — A Matter of Duty 39 

VI. — My Last Chance 47 

VII. — The Little Wretch! 55 

VIII. — An Expensive Privilege 63 

IX. — A Very Dull Affair 71 

X. — Strange, but True 80 

XL — The Very Latest Thing .... 89 

XII. — An Uncounted Hour 97 

XIII. — A Reminiscence 105 

XIV. — Ancient History 113 

XV. — A Fine Day 122 

XVI. — The House Opposite 129 

XVII. — A Quick Change 137 

XVIII. — A Slight Mistake 145 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

XIX. — The Other Lady 153 

XX. — A Life Subscription 16 1 

XXL — What Might Have Been . . . .169 

XXII. — A Fatal Obstacle 178 

XXIII. — The Curate’s Bump 186 

XXIV. — One Way In 194 


vi 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


I’ve been hearing something about you, Mr. 

Carter” - Frontispiece ^ 

PAGE 

Miss Dolly Foster - -- -- -- -- -- i8^ 

Aren’t you accustomed to your dignity yet ? ” - - 40 

“ There isn’t,” said George, ** a girl in London to 

touch her” ------------84*/ 

You were sitting close by me — on a bench” - - - 138 ^ 

''You seem very pleased with yourself,” said Dolly - 154 ^ 


"She used to bore me awfully about you” - - - 180 

"Now, isn’t that provoking?” cried Dolly. "They 

haven’t rolled the tennis lawn ” - - - - -188 ^ 


1 



THE DOLLY DIALOGUES. 


CHAPTER I. 

A LIBERAL EDUCATION. 

" There’s ingratitude for you ! ” Miss Dolly 
Foster exclaimed suddenly. 

“ Where ? ” I asked, rousing myself from 
meditation. 

She pointed at a young man who had just 
passed where we sat. He was dressed very 
smartly, and was walking with a lady attired in 
the height of the fashion. 

I made that man,” said Dolly, and now 
he cuts me dead before the whole of the Row ! 
It’s atrocious. Why, but for me, do you sup- 
pose he’d be at this moment engaged to three 
thousand a year and — and the plainest girl in 
London ? ” 

Not that,” I pleaded ; “ think of — ” 

Well, very plain, anyhow. I was quite ready 
to bow to him. I almost did.” 

‘‘ In fact, you did ? ” 

‘‘ I did n’t. I declare I did n’t.” 

‘‘ Oh, well, you did n’t, then. It only looked 
like it.” 


9 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

‘‘I met him/' said Miss Dolly, ‘‘three years 
ago. At that time he was — oh, quite unpre- 
sentable. He was everything he shouldn’t be. 
He was a teetotaler, you know, and he didn’t 
smoke, and he was always going to concerts. 
Oh, and he wore his hair long, and his trousers 
short, and his hat on the back of his head. And 
his umbrella — ” 

“ Where did he wear that ? ” 

“He carried that, Mr. Carter. Don’t be 
silly ! Carried it unrolled, you know, and gen- 
erally a paper parcel in the other hand ; and he 
had spectacles too.” 

“ He has certainly changed outwardly at least.” 
“ Yes, I know ; well, I did that. I took him 
in hand, and I just taught him, and now — ! ” 
“Yes, I know that. But how did you teach 
him? Give him Saturday evening lectures, or 
what?” 

“Oh, every-evening lectures, and most-morning 
walks. And I taught him to dance, and I broke 
his wretched fiddle with my own hands ! ” 

“ What very arbitrary distinctions you draw ! ” 

“ I don’t know what you mean. I do like 
a man to be smart, anyhow. Don’t you, Mr. 
Carter? You’re not so smart as you might be. 
Now, shall I take you in hand?” And she 
smiled upon me. 


10 


A LIBERAL EDUCATION 


** Let ’s hear your method. What did you do 
to him ? ** 

‘‘To Phil Meadows ? Oh, nothing. I just 
slipped in a remark here and there, whenever he 
talked nonsense. I used to speak just at the 
right time, you know.’’ 

“ But how had your words such influence. Miss 
Foster ? ” 

“ Oh, well, you know, Mr. Carter, I made it 
a condition that he should do just what I wanted 
in little things like that. Did he think I was 
going to walk about with a man carrying a brown- 
paper parcel — as if we had been to the shop for 
a pound of tea ? ” 

“ Still, I don’t see why he should alter all 
his — ” 

“ Oh, you are stupid I Of course, he liked 
me, you know.” 

“ Oh, did he ? I see.” 

“ You seem to think that very funny.” 

“ Not that he did — but that, apparently, he 
does n’t.” 

“ Well, you got out of that rather neatly — for 
you. No, he doesn’t now. You see, he mis- 
understood my motive. He thought — well, I do 
believe he thought I cared for him, you know. 
Of course I did n’t.” 

“ Not a bit? ” 

zx 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

"Just as a friend — and a pupil, you know. 
And when he’d had his hair cut and bought a 
frock-coat (fancy! he’d never had one I), he 
looked quite nice. He has nice eyes. Did you 
notice them ? ” 

" Lord, no 1 ” 

" Well, you ’re so unobservant.” 

" Oh, not always. I ’ve observed that your — ” 
" Please don’t 1 It’s no use, is it ? ” 

I looked very unhappy. There is an under- 
standing that I am very unhappy since Miss 
Foster’s engagement to the Earl of Mickleham 
was announced. 

" What was I saying before — before you — 
you know — oh, about Phil Meadows, of course. 
I did like him very much, you know, or I should n’t 
have taken all that trouble. Why, his own mother 
thanked n)e 1 ” 

"I have no more to say,” said I. 

" But she wrote me a horrid letter afterwards.” 

" You ’re so very elliptical.” 

" So very what, Mr. Carter ? ” 

" You leave so much out, I mean. After what ? ” 
" Why, after I sent him away. Did n’t I tell 
you ? Oh, we had the most awful scene. He 
raved^ Mr. Carter. He called me the most hor- 
rid names, and — ” 

" Tore his hair? ” 

12 


A LIBERAL EDUCATION 

" It was n’t long enough to get hold of/’ she 
tittered. “ But don’t laugh. It was really dread- 
ful. And so unjust ! And then, next day, when 
I thought it was comfortably over, you know, he 
came back, and — and apologised, and called him- 
self the most awful names, and — well, that was 
really worse.” 

“What did the fellow complain of?” I asked 
in wondering tones. 

“ Oh, he said I ’d destroyed his faith in women, 
you know, and that I ’d led him on, and that I 
was — well, he was very rude indeed. And he 
went on writing me letters like that for a whole 
year ! It made me quite uncomfortable.” 

“ But he did n’t go back to short trousers and 
a fiddle, did he ? ” I asked anxiously. 

“Oh, no. But he forgot all he owed me, and 
he told me that his heart was dead, and that he 
should never love any one again.” 

“ But he ’s going to marry that girl.” 

“ Oh, he does n’t care about her,” said Miss 
Dolly, reassuringly. “ It ’s the money, you know. 
He had n’t a farthing of his own. Now he ’ll be 
set up for life.” 

“ And it ’s all due to you ! ” said I, admiringly. 

“ Well, it is, really.” 

“ I don’t call her such a bad-looking girl, 
though.” (I hadn’t seen her face.) 

13 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ Mr. Carter ! She *s hideous ! ” 

I dropped that subject. 

‘‘ And now/’ said Miss Dolly again, he cuts 
me dead ! ” 

“ It is the height of ingratitude. Why, to love 
you was a liberal education ! ” 

“ Yes, was n’t it ? How nicely you put that ! 
‘ A liberal education ! ’ I shall tell Archie.” 
(Archie is Lord Mickleham.) 

‘‘ What, about Phil Meadows ? ” 

‘‘ Goodness me, no, Mr. Carter. Just what you 
said, you know.” 

‘‘ But why not tell Mickleham about Phil 
Meadows ? ” I urged. “ It ’s all to your credit, 
you know.” 

‘^Yes, I know, but men are so foolish. You 
see, Archie thinks — ” 

‘‘ Of course he does.” 

“ You might let me finish.” 

“ Archie thinks you were never in love before.” 
“Yes, he does. Well, of course, I wasn’t in 
love with Phil — ” 

“ Not a little bit ? ” 

“ Oh, well — ” 

“ Nor with any one else ? ” 

Miss Dolly prodded the path with her parasol. 

“ Nor with any one else ? ” I asked again. 

Miss Dolly looked for an instant in my 
direction. 14 


A LIBERAL EDUCATION 


“ Nor with any one else ? ” said I. 

Miss Dolly looked straight in front of her. 

“ Nor with — I began. 

‘‘ Hullo, old chappie, where did you spring 
from?” 

“ Why, Archie 1 ” cried Miss Dolly. 

Oh, how are you, Mickleham, old man ? 
Take this seat; I ’m just off — just off. Yes, I 
was, upon my honour — got to meet a man at the 
club. Good-by, Miss Foster. Jove ! I ’m late ! ” 
And as I went I heard Miss Dolly say, ‘‘ I 
thought you were never coming, Archie, dear!” 
Well, she did n*t think he was coming just then. 
No more did 1. 


*5 


CHAPTER II. 


CORDIAL RELATIONS. 

The other day I paid a call on Miss Dolly 
Foster for the purpose of presenting to her my 
small offering on the occasion of her marriage 
to Lord Mickleham. It was a pretty little bit 
of jewellery, — a pearl heart-broken (rubies played 
the part of blood) and held together by a gold pin, 
set with diamonds, the whole surmounted by an 
earfs coronet. I had taken some trouble about 
it, and I was grateful when Miss Dolly asked me 
to explain the symbolism. 

It is my heart,” I observed. ‘‘ The fracture 
is of your making ; the pin — ” 

Here Miss Dolly interrupted ; to tell the truth, 
I was not sorry, for I was fairly gravelled for the 
meaning of the pin. 

“What nonsense, Mr. Carter!” said she; “but 
it *s awfully pretty. Thanks, so very, very much. 
Are n’t relations funny people ? ” 

“If you wish to change the subject, pray 
do,” said I. “I ’ll change anything except my 
affections.” 

i6 


CORDIAL RELATIONS 

" Look here/’ she pursued, holding out a bun- 
dle of letters. Here are the congratulatory 
epistles from relations. Shall I read you a 
few ? ” 

It will be a most agreeable mode of passing 
the time,” said I. 

‘‘ This is from Aunt Georgiana — she ’s a 
widow — lives at Cheltenham, ^ My dearest 
Dorothea — * ” 

« Who?” 

‘‘Dorothea’s my name, Mr. Carter. It means 
the gift of heaven, you know.” 

“ Precisely. Pray proceed. Miss Dolly. I did 
not at first recognise you.” 

“‘My dearest Dorothea, I have heard the news 
of your engagement to Lord Mickleham with 
deep thankfulness. To obtain the love of an 
honest man is a great prize. I hope you will 
prove worthy of it. Marriage is a trial and an 
opportunity — ’ ” 

“ Hear, hear ! ” said I. “ A trial for the 
husband and — ” 

“ Be quiet, Mr. Carter. ‘ A trial and an oppor- 
tunity. It searches the heart and it affords a 
sphere of usefulness which — ’ So she goes on, 
you know. I don’t see why I need be lectured 
just because I ’m going to be married, do you, Mr. 
Carter ? ” 


17 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


** Let’s try another,” said 1. Who ’s that on 
pink paper ? ” 

“Oh, that’s Georgy Vane. She’s awful fun. 
* Dear old Dolly, — So you ’ve brought it off. 
Hearty congrats. I thought you were going to 
be silly and throw away — ’ There’s nothing 
else there, Mr. Carter. Look here. Listen to 
this. It’s from Uncle William. He’s a clergy- 
man, you know. ‘My dear Niece, — I have 
heard with great gratification of your engagement. 
Your aunt and I unite in all good wishes. I recol- 
lect Lord Mickleham’s father when I held a cur- 
acy near Worcester. He was a regular attendant 
at church and a supporter of all good works in the 
diocese. If only his son takes after him ’ (fancy 
Archie !) ‘ you have secured a prize. I hope you 
have a proper sense of the responsibilities you are 
undertaking. Marriage affords no small oppor- 
tunities ; it also entails certain trials — ’ ” 

“ Why, you ’re reading Aunt Georgiana again.” 

“ Am I ? No, it ’s Uncle William.” 

“ Then let ’s try a fresh cast — unless you ’ll 
finish Georgy Vane’s.” 

“Well, here’s Cousin Susan’s. She’s an old 
maid, you know. It ’s very long. Here ’s a bit : 
‘Woman has it in her power to exercise a sacred 
influence. I have not the pleasure of knowing 
Lord Mickleham, but I hope, my dear, that you 


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Drawn by Howard Chandler Christy* 

J've been hearing someihin^ about you ^ Mr. Carter 

{Page 113.) 


CORDIAL RELATIONS 


will use your power over him for good. It is 
useless for me to deny that when you stayed with 
me, I thought you were addicted to frivolity. 
Doubtless marriage will sober you. Try to make 
a good use of its lessons. I am sending you a 
biscuit tin’ — and so on.” 

“ A very proper letter,” said I. 

Miss Dolly indulged in a slight grimace, and 
took up another letter. 

“This,” she said, “is from my sister-in-law, 
Mrs. Algernon Foster.” 

“ A daughter of Lord Doldrums, was n’t she ? ” 

“ Yes. ‘ My dear Dorothea, — I have heard 
your news. I do hope it will turn out happily. 
I believe that any woman who conscientiously does 
her duty can find happiness in married life. Her 
husband and children occupy all her time and all 
her thoughts, and if she can look for few of the 
lighter pleasures of life, she has at least the knowl- 
edge that she is of use in the world. Please ac- 
cept the accompanying volumes’ (it’s Browning) 
‘ as a small — ’ I say, Mr. Carter, do you think 
it ’s really like that ? ” 

“ There is still time to draw back,” I observed. 

“ Oh, don’t be silly. Here, this is my brother 
Tom’s. ' Dear Dol, — I thought Mickleham 
rather an ass when I met him, but I dare say you 
know best. What ’s his place like ? Does he 
19 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


take a moor? I thought I read that he kept a 
yacht. Does he ? Give him my love and a kiss. 
Good luck, old girl. — Tom. P.S. — I'm glad 
it's not me, you know.'" 

‘‘ A disgusting letter," I observed. 

‘‘ Not at all," said Miss Dolly, dimpling. It 's 
just like dear old Tom. Listen to grandpapa's. 
‘ My dear Granddaughter, — The alliance ' (I rather 
like it 's being called an alliance, Mr. Carter. It 
sounds like the Royal Family, doesn't it?) ‘you 
are about to contract is in all respects a suitable 
one. I send you my blessing, and a small check 
to help towards your trousseau. — Yours affec- 
tionately, Jno. Wm. Foster.' " 

“ That," said I, “ is the best up to now.” 

“Yes, it's 500," said she, smiling. “Here's 
old Lady M.'s." 

“ Whose F ” I exclaimed. 

“ Archie's mother's, you know. ‘ My dear 
Dorothea (as I suppose I must call you now), — 
Archibald has informed us of his engagement, and 
I and the girls' (there are five girls, Mr. Carter) 
‘hasten to welcome his bride. I am sure Archie 
will make his wife very happy. He is rather 
particular (like his dear father), but he has a good 
heart, and is not fidgety about his meals. Of 
course we shall be delighted to move out of The 
Towers at once. I hope we shall see a great deal 
20 


CORDIAL RELATIONS 


of you soon. Archie is full of your praises, and 
we thoroughly trust his taste. Archie — * It’s 
all about Archie, you see.” 

“ Naturally,” said I. 

“Well, I don’t know. I suppose I count a 
little, too. Oh, look here. Here ’s Cousin Fred’s 
— but he ’s always so silly. I shan’t read you 
his.” 

“ Oh, just a bit of it,” I pleaded. 

“ Well, here ’s one bit. ‘ I suppose I can’t 
murder him, so I must wish him joy. All I can 
say is, Dolly, that he ’s the luckiest ’ (something I 
can’t read — either fellow or — devil) ‘ I ever heard 
of. I wonder if you ’ve forgotten that evening — ’ ” 

“Well, go on.” For she stopped. 

“ Oh, there ’s nothing else.” 

“In fact, you have forgotten the evening ? ” 

“ Entirely,” said Miss Dolly, tossing her head. 
“ But he sends me a love of a bracelet. He can’t 
possibly pay for it, poor boy.” 

“Young knave ! ” said I, severely. (I had paid 
for my pearl heart.) 

“ Then come a lot from girls. Oh, there ’s one 
from Maud Tottenham — she ’s a second cousin, 
you know — it ’s rather amusing. ‘ I used to know 
your fianc'e slightly. He seemed very nice, but 
it ’s a long while ago, and I never saw much of 
him. I hope he is really fond of you, and that 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

it is not a mere fancy. Since you love him so 
much, it would be a pity if he did not care deeply 
for you/ 

‘‘Interpret, Miss Dolly,” said I. 

“ She tried to catch him herself,” said Miss 
Dolly. 

“ Ah, I see. Is that all ? ” 

“ The others are n't very interesting.” 

“ Then let 's finish Georgy Vane's.” 

“ Really ? ” she asked, smiling. 

“ Yes. Really.” 

“ Oh, if you don't mind, I don't,” said she, 
laughing, and she hunted out the pink note and 
spread it before her. “ Let me see. Where was 
I ? Oh, here. ‘ I thought you were going to be 
silly and throw away your chances on some of the 
men who used to flirt with you. Archie Mickle- 
ham may not be a genius, but he 's a good fellow 
and a swell and rich ; he 's not a pauper, like 
Phil Meadows, or a snob, like Charlie Dawson, 
or — ^ shall I go on, Mr. Carter? No, I won't. 
I didn't see what it was.” 

“Yes, you shall go on.” 

“ Oh, no, I can't,” and she folded up the letter. 

“ Then I will,” and I 'm ashamed to say I 
snatched the letter. Miss Dolly jumped to her 
feet. I fled behind the table. She ran round. 
I dodged. 


CORDIAL RELATIONS 


« < Or — ' ” I began to read. 

“ Stop ! ** cried she. 

‘“Or a young spendthrift like that man — I 
forget his name — whom you used to go on with 
at such a pace at Monte Carlo last winter.' " 

“ Stop ! " she cried, stamping her foot. I 
read on : — 

‘“No doubt he was charming, my dear, and no 
doubt anybody would have thought you meant it; 
but I never doubted you. Still, were n't you just 
a little — ' " 

“Stop!" she cried. “You must stop, Mr. 
Carter." 

So then I stopped. I folded the letter and 
handed it back to her. Her cheeks flushed red as 
she took it. 

“ I thought you were a gentleman," said she, 
biting her lip. 

“ I was at Monte Carlo last winter myself," 
said I. 

“Lord Mickleham," said the butler, throwing 
open the door. 


23 


CHAPTER III. 


RETRIBUTION. 

In future I am going to be careful what I do. 
I am also — and this is by no means less im- 
portant — going to be very careful what Miss 
Dolly Foster does. Everybody knows (if I may 
quote her particular friend Nellie Phaeton) that 
dear Dolly means no harm, but she is “just a 
little harum-scarum.” I thanked Miss Phaeton 
for the expression. 

The fact is that “ old Lady M.” (here I quote 
Miss Dolly) sent for me the other day. I have 
not the honour of knowing the Countess, and I 
went in some trepidation. When I was ushered 
in. Lady Mickleham put up her “ starers.” (You 
know those abominations ! Pince-nez with long 
torture — I mean tortoise — shell handles.) 

“ Mr. — er — Carter ? ” said she. 

I bowed. I would have denied it if I could. 

“ My dears ! ” said Lady Mickleham. 

Upon this five young ladies who had been sit- 
ting in five straight-backed chairs, doing five pieces 

24 


RETRIBUTION 

of embroidery, rose, bowed, and filed out of the 
room. I felt very nervous. A pause followed. 
Then the Countess observed — and it seemed at 
first rather irrelevant — 

“ I Ve been reading an unpleasant story.** 

“In these days of French influence,** I began 
apologetically (not that I write such stories, or 
indeed any stories, but Lady Mickleham invites 
an apologetic attitude), and my eye wandered to 
the table. I saw nothing worse (or better) than 
the morning paper there. 

“ Contained in a friend*s letter,** she continued, 
focussing the “ starers ** full on my face. 

I did not know what to do, so I bowed again. 

“ It must have been as painful for her to write 
as for me to read,** Lady Mickleham went on. 
“ And that is saying much. Be seated, pray.** 

I bowed, and sat down in one of the straight- 
backed chairs. I also began, in my fright, to play 
with one of the pieces of embroidery. 

“Is Lady Jane*s work in your way?’* (Lady 
Jane is named after Jane, the famous Countess, 
Lady-in-Waiting to Caroline of Anspach.) 

I dropped the embroidery, and put my foot on 
my hat. 

“ I believe, Mr. Carter, that you are acquainted 
with Miss Dorothea Foster ? ** 

“ I have that pleasure,” said 1. 

25 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Who is about to be married to my son, the 
Earl of Mickleham ? ** 

‘‘ That, I believe, is so,’* said I. I was begin- 
ning to pull myself together. 

“ My son, Mr. Carter, is of a simple and trust- 
ing disposition. Perhaps I had better come to the 
point. I am informed by this letter that, in con- 
versation with the writer the other day, Archibald 
mentioned, quite incidentally, some very startling 
facts. Those facts concern you, Mr. Carter.” 

May I ask the name of the writer ? ” 

“ I do not think that is necessary,” said she. 

She is a lady in whom I have the utmost 
confidence.” 

“That is, of course, enough,” said I. 

“ It appears, Mr. Carter — and you will excuse 
me if I speak plainly” — (I set my teeth) “that you 
have, in the first place, given to my son’s bride 
a wedding present, which I can only describe as — ” 

“A pearl ornament,” I interposed; “with a 
ruby or two, and — ” 

“ A pearl heart,” she corrected ; “ er — fractured, 
and that you explained that this absurd article 
represented your heart.” 

“ Mere badinage^' said I. 

“In execrably bad taste,” said she. 

I bowed. 

“In fact, most offensive. But that is not the 
26 


RETRIBUTION 


worst. From my son’s further statements it ap- 
pears that on one occasion, at least, he found you and 
Miss Foster engaged in what I can only call — ” 

I raised my hand in protest. The Countess 
took no notice. 

What I can only call romping'" 

She shot this word at me with extraordinary 
violence, and when it was out she shuddered. 

“ Romping ! ” I cried. 

‘‘ A thing not only atrociously vulgar at all 
times, but under the circumstances — need I say 
more ? Mr. Carter, you were engaged in chasing 
my son’s future bride round a table ! ” 

“Pardon me. Lady Mickleham. Your son’s 
future bride was engaged in chasing me round a 
table.” 

“ It is the same thing,” said Lady Mickleham. 

“ I should have thought there was a distinction,” 
said I. 

“ None at all.” 

I fell back on a second line of defence. 

“ I did n’t let her catch me. Lady Mickleham,” 
I pleaded. 

Lady Mickleham grew quite red. This made 
me feel more at my ease. 

“ No, sir. If you had — ” 

“ Goodness knows ! ” I murmured, shaking my 
head. 


27 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“As it happened, however, my son entered in 
the middle of this disgraceful — ” 

“It was at the beginning,*’ said I, with a 
regretful sigh. 

Upon this — and I have really never been so 
pleased at anything in all my life — the Countess, 
the violence of her emotions penetrating to her 
very fingers, gripped the handle of her “ starers ” 
with such force that she broke it in two ! She 
was a woman of the world, and in a moment she 
looked as if nothing had happened. With me it 
was different ; and that I am not now on Lady 
Mickleham’s visiting-list is due to {inter alia et enor- 
mia') the fact that I laughed ! It was out before 
I could help it. In a second I was as grave as 
a mute. The mischief was done. The Countess 
rose. I imitated her example. 

“You are amused?” said she, and her tones 
banished the last of my mirth. I stumbled on my 
hat, and it rolled to her feet. 

“ It is not probable,” she observed, “ that after 
Miss Foster’s marriage you will meet her often. 
You will move in — er — somewhat different 
circles.” 

“ I may catch a glimpse of her in her carriage 
from the top of my ’bus,” said I. 

“Your milieu and my son’s — ” 

“ I know his valet, though,” said I. 

38 


RETRIBUTION 


Lady Mickleham rang the bell. I stooped for 
my hat. To tell the truth, I was rather afraid to 
expose myself in such a defenceless attitude, but 
the Countess preserved her self-control. The 
butler opened the door. I bowed, and left the 
Countess regarding me through the maimed 
‘‘ starers.'* Then I found the butler smiling. He 
probably knew the signs of the weather. I 
wouldn't be Lady Mickleham's butler if you 
made me a duke. 

As I walked home through the Park I met 
Miss Dolly and Mickleham. They stopped. I 
walked on. Mickleham seized me by the coat-tails. 

Do you mean to cut us ? ” he cried. 

« Yes," said I. 

‘^Why, what the deuce — ? ” he began. 

“ I Ve seen your mother,” said I. I wish, 
Mickleham, that when you do happen to intrude 
as you did the other day, you would n't repeat 
what you see.” 

‘‘ Lord ! '' he cried. She 's not heard of that ? 
I only told Aunt Cynthia.” 

I said something about Aunt Cynthia. 

Does — does she know it asked Miss 

Dolly. 

‘‘ More than all — much more.'* 

‘‘Didn't you smooth it over?” said Miss 
Dolly, reproachfully. 

»9 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ On reflection,” said I, “ I don’t know that 
I did — much.” (I hadn’t, you know.) 

Suddenly Mickleham burst out laughing. 

“ What a game ! ” he exclaimed. 

“That’s all very well for you,” said Dolly. 
“ But do you happen to remember that we dine 
there to-night?” 

Archie grew grave. 

“I hope you’ll enjoy yourselves,” said I. “I 
always cling to the belief that the wicked are 
punished.” And I looked at Miss Dolly. 

“ Never you mind, little woman,” said Archie, 
drawing Miss Dolly’s arm through his. “I ’ll see 
you through. After all, everybody knows that 
old Carter’s an ass.” 

That piece of universal knowledge may help 
matters, but I do not quite see how. I walked 
on, for Miss Dolly had quite forgotten me, and 
was looking up at Archie Mickleham like — well, 
hang it, in the way they do, you know. So I just 
walked on. 

I believe Miss Dolly has got a husband who is 
(let us say) good enough for her. And, for one 
reason and another, I am glad of it. And I also 
believe that she knows it. And I am — I suppose 
— glad of that too. Oh, yes, of course I am. 
Of course. 


3 ® 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE PERVERSENESS OF IT. 

^‘1 tell you what, Mr. Carter,” said Miss 
Nellie Phaeton, touching up Rhino with her 
whip, “love in a cottage is — ” 

“ Lord forgive us, cinders, ashes, dust,” I 
quoted. 

We were spanking round the Park behind 
Ready and Rhino. Miss Phaeton’s horses are 
very large; her groom is very small, and her 
courage is indomitable. I am no great hand at 
driving myself, and I am not always quite com- 
fortable. Moreover, the stricter part of my 
acquaintance consider, I believe, that Miss 
Phaeton’s attentions to me are somewhat pro- 
nounced, and that I ought not to drive with her 
in the Park. 

“You’re right,” she went on. “What a girl 
wants is a good house and lots of cash, and some 
ridin’ and a little huntin’ and — ” 

“A few "g’s’ !” I cried in shuddering entreaty. 
“ If you love me, a ‘g’ or two.” 

“Well, I suppose so,” said she. “You can’t 
go ridin’ without gees, can you ? ” 

31 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Apparently one could go driving without any, 
but I did not pursue the subject. 

‘‘It’s only in stories that people are in love 
when they marry,” observed Miss Phaeton, 
reflectively. 

“Yes, and then it’s generally with somebody 
else,” said I. 

“ Oh, if you count that I ” said she, hitting 
Ready rather viciously. We bounded forward, 
and I heard the little groom bumping on the back 
seat. I am always glad not to be a groom — it ’s 
a cup-and-ball sort of life, which must be very 
wearying. 

“Were you ever in love?” she asked, just 
avoiding a brougham which contained the Duchess 
of D exminster. (If, by the way, I have to run 
into any one, I like it to be a Duchess : you get a 
much handsomer paragraph.) 

“ Yes,” said I. 

“ Often ? ” 

“Oh, not too often, and I always take great 
care, you know.” 

“What of?” 

“ That it shall be quite out of the question, you 
know. It ’s not at all difficult. I only have to 
avoid persons of moderate means.” 

“ But are n’t you a person of — ? ” 

“ Exactly. That ’s why. So I choose either a 
32 


THE PERVERSENESS OF IT 


pauper — when it *s impossible — or an heiress — 
when it *s preposterous. See ? 

‘‘But don’t you ever want to get — ?” began 
Miss Phaeton. 

“ Let ’s talk about something else,’* said I. 

“ I believe you ’re humbuggin* me,” said Miss 
Phaeton. 

“ I am offering a veiled apology,” said I. 

“ Stuff ! ” said she. “ You know you told 
Dolly Foster that I should make an excellent wife 
for a trainer.” 

Oh, these women ! A man had better talk to a 
phonograph. 

“ Or anybody else,” said I, politely. 

Miss Phaeton whipped up her horses. 

“ Look out ! There ’s the mounted police- 
man,” I cried. 

“ No, he is n’t. Are you afraid? ” she retorted. 

“ I ’m not fit to die,” I pleaded. 

“ I don’t care a pin for your opinion, you know,” 
she continued (I had never supposed that she did) ; 
“ but what did you mean by it ? ” 

“ I never said it.” 

“ Oh!” 

“ All right — I never did.” 

“ Then Dolly invented it ? ” 

“ Of course,” said I, steadily. 

“On your honour? ” 

3 


33 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Oh, come, Miss Phaeton ! ” 

Would — would other people think so ? ** she 
asked, with a highly surprising touch of timidity. 

‘‘ Nobody would,'* I said. ‘‘ Only a snarling 
old wretch would say so, just because he thought 
it smart.” 

There was a long pause. Then Miss Phaeton 
asked me abruptly : — 

You never met him, did you ? ” 

‘‘ No.” 

A pause ensued. We passed the Duchess again, 
and scratched the nose of her poodle, which was 
looking out of the carriage window. Miss Phae- 
ton flicked Rhino, and the groom behind went 
plop-plop on the seat. 

“He lives in town, you know,” remarked Miss 
Phaeton. 

“ They mostly do — and write about the coun- 
try,” said I. 

“ Why should n't they ? ” she asked fiercely. 

“ My dear Miss Phaeton, by all means let 
them,” said 1. 

“ He 's awfully clever, you know,” she con- 
tinued ; “ but he would n't always talk. Some- 
times he just sat and said nothin', or read a 
book.” 

A sudden intuition discovered Mr. Gay's 
feelings to me. 


\ 


34 


THE PERVERSENESS OF IT 

“You were talking about the run, or something, 
I suppose ? ” 

“Yes, or the bag, you know.” 

As she spoke, she pulled up Ready and Rhino. 
The little groom jumped down and stood under 
(not at) their heads. I leant back and surveyed 
the crowd sitting and walking. Miss Phaeton 
flicked a fly off Rhino's ear, put her whip in the 
socket, and leant back also. 

“ Then I suppose you did n't care much about 
him ? I asked. 

“ Oh, I liked him pretty well,'' she answered 
very carelessly. 

At this moment, looking along the walk, I saw 
a man coming towards us. He was a handsome 
fellow, with just a touch of “ softness '' in his face. 
He was dressed in correct fashion, save that his hair 
was a trifle longer, his coat a trifle fuller, his hat a 
trifle larger, his tie a trifle looser than they were worn 
by most. He caught my attention, and I went on 
looking at him for a little while, till a slight move- 
ment of my companion's made me turn my head. 

Miss Phaeton was sitting bolt upright : she 
fidgeted with the reins ; she took her whip out ot 
the socket and put it back again ; and, to my 
amazement, her cheeks were very red. 

Presently the man came opposite the carriage. 
Miss Phaeton bowed. He lifted his hat, smiled, 
35 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


and made as if to pass on. Miss Phaeton held 
out her hand. I could see a momentary gleam of 
surprise in his eye, as though he thought her cor- 
diality more than he might have looked for — pos- 
sibly even more than he cared about. But he 
stopped and shook hands. 

“How are you, Mr. Gay?’* she said, not 
introducing me. 

“ Still with your inseparables ! ” he said gaily, 
with a wave of his hand towards the horses. “ I 
hope, Miss Phaeton, that in the next world your 
faithful steeds will be allowed to bear you com- 
pany, or what will you do ? ” 

“ Oh, you think I care for nothin’ but horses?” 
said she, petulantly, but she leant towards him, and 
gave me her shoulder. 

“ Oh, no,” he laughed. “ Dogs also, and I/m 
afraid one day it was ferrets, was n’t it ? ” 

“ Have — have you written any poetry lately?” 
she asked. 

“ How conscientious of you to inquire ! ” he 
exclaimed, his eyes twinkling. Oh, yes, half 
a hundred things. Have you — killed — anything 
lately ? ” 

I could swear she flushed again. Her voice 
trembled as she answered, — 

“ No, not lately.” 

I caught sight of his face behind her back, and I 
36 


THE PERVERSENESS OF IT 

thought I saw a trace of puzzle — nothing more. 
He held out his hand. 

Well, so glad to have seen you, Miss Phaeton,” 
said he, ‘‘ but I must run on. Good-by.” 

‘‘ Good-by, Mr. Gay,” said she. 

And, lifting his hat again, smiling again gaily, 
he was gone. For a moment or two I said noth- 
ing. Then I remarked, — 

‘‘ So that ’s your friend Gay, is it ? He ’s not 
a bad-looking fellow.” 

‘‘Yes, that's him,” said she, and, as she spoke, 
she sank back in her seat for a moment. I did 
not look at her face. Then she sat up straight 
again and took the whip. 

“ Want to stay any longer ? ” she asked. 

“ No,” said I. 

The little groom sprang away. Rhino and Ready 
dashed ahead. 

“ Shall I drop you at the club ? ” she asked. 
“ I 'm goin’ home.” 

“ I 'll get out here,” said I. 

We came to a stand again, and I got down. 

“ Good-by,” I said. 

She nodded at me, but said nothing. A second 
later the carriage was tearing down the road, and 
the little groom hanging on for dear life. 

Of course it's all nonsense. She 's not the least 
suited to him ; she 'd make him miserable, and 
37 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


then be miserable herself. But it seems a little 
perverse, doesn’t it? In fact, twice at least be- 
tween the courses at dinner I caught myself being 
sorry for her. It is, when you think of it, so 
remarkably perverse. 


CHAPTER V. 


A MATTER OF DUTY, 

Lady Mickleham is back from her honey- 
moon. I mean young Lady Mickleham — Dolly 
Foster (well, of course I do. Fancy the Dowager 
on a honeymoon !). She signified the fact to me 
by ordering me to call on her at tea-time ; she had, 
she said, something which she wished to consult 
me about confidentially, I went. 

‘‘ I did n’t know you were back,” I observed. 

“ Oh, we ’ve been back a fortnight, but we went 
down to The Towers. They were all there, Mr. 
Carter.” 

All who ? ” 

All Archie’s people. The Dowager said we 
must get really to know one another as soon as 
possible. I ’m not sure I like really knowing 
people. It means that they say whatever they 
like to you, and don’t get up out of your favourite 
chair when you come in.” 

‘‘I agree,” said I, “that a soup(^on oi unfamil- 
iarity is not amiss.” 


39 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES ) 

“Of course it’s nice to be one of the family, 
she continued. 

« The cat is that/* said I. I would not give 
a fig for it.** 

‘‘ And the Dowager taught me the ways of the 
house.** 

“Ah, she taught me the way out of it.*’ 

“ And showed me how to be most disagreeable 
to the servants.** 

“ It is the first lesson of a housekeeper.** 

“ And told me what Archie particularly liked, 
and how bad it was for him, poor boy.** 

“ What should we do without our mothers ? I 
do not, however, see how I can help in all this, 
Lady Mickleham.** 

“ How funny that sounds ! ** 

“ Are n’t you accustomed to your dignity yet ? ** 
“ I meant from you, Mr. Carter.** 

I smiled. That is Dolly’s way. As Miss 
Phaeton says, she means no harm, and it is ad- 
mirably conducive to the pleasure of a tete-a-tete, 
“ It was n’t that I wanted to ask you about,” 
she continued, after she had indulged in a pensive 
sigh (with a dutifully bright smile and a glance at 
Archie’s photograph to follow. Her behaviour 
always reminds me of a varied and well-assorted 
menu), “ It was about something much more 
difficult. You won’t tell Archie, will you ? ** 

. 40 


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>> 







A MATTER OF DUTY 

‘‘This becomes interesting/’ I remarked, put- 
ting my hat down. 

“You know, Mr. Carter, that before I was 
married — oh, how long ago it seems ! ” 

“ Not at all.” 

“ Don’t interrupt. That before I was married 
I had several — that is to say, several — well, 
several — ” 

“ Start quite afresh,” I suggested encouragingly. 

“ Well, then, several men were silly enough to 
think themselves — you know.” 

“No one better,” I assented cheerfully. 

“Oh, if you won’t be sensible! — Well, you 
see, many of them are Archie’s friends as well as 
mine ; and, of course, they ’ve-been to call.” 

“ It is but good manners,” said I. 

“ One of them waited to be sent for, though.” 

“ Leave that fellow out,” said I. 

“ What I want to ask you is this — and I be- 
lieve you Ve not silly, really, you know, except 
when you choose to be.” 

“ Walk in the Row any afternoon,” said I, “and 
you won’t find ten wiser men.” 

“ It ’s this. Ought I to tell Archie ? ” 

“ Good gracious I Here ’s a problem 1 ” 

“ Of course,” pursued Lady Mickleham, open- 
ing her fan, “it ’s in some ways more comfortable 
that he should n’t know.” 

4 ‘ 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ For him 

« Yes — and for me. But then it does n’t seem 
quite fair.” 

“To him ? ” 

“Yes — and to me. Because if he came to 
know from anybody else, he might exaggerate the 
things, you know.” 

“Impossible ! ” 

“ Mr. Carter ! ” 

“ I • — er - — mean he knows you too well to do 
such a thing.” 

“ Oh, I see. Thank you. Yes. What do 
you think ? ” 

“ What does the Dowager say ? ” 

“ I have n’t mentioned it to the Dowager.” 

“ But surely, on such a point, her experience — ” 

“ She can’t have any,” said Lady Mickleham, 
decisively. “ I believe in her husband, because I 
must. But nobody else ! You ’re not giving me 
your opinion.” 

I reflected for a moment. 

“ Have n’t we left out one point of view ? ” I 
ventured to suggest. 

“ 1 ’ve thought it all over very carefully,” said 
she ; “ both as it would affect me and as it would 
affect Archie.” 

“ Quite so. Now suppose you think how it 
would affect them I ” 


42 


A MATTER OF DUTY 


«Who?” 

“ Why, the men.” 

Lady Mickleham put down her cup of tea. 

‘‘ What a very curious idea ! ” she exclaimed. 

“ Give it time to sink in,” said I, helping my- 
self to another piece of toast. 

She sat silent for a few moments — presumably 
to allow of the permeation I suggested. I finished 
my tea and leant back comfortably. Then I 
said, — 

Let me take my own case. Should n’t I feel 
rather awkward — ? ” 

“ Oh, it ’s no good taking your case,” she 
interrupted. 

“ Why not mine as well as another ? ” 

Because I told him about you long ago.” 

I was not surprised. But I could not permit 
Lady Mickleham to laugh at me in the uncon- 
scionable manner in which she proceeded to laugh. 
I spread out my hands and observed blandly, — 

‘‘Why not be guided — as to the others, I 
mean — by your husband’s example ? ” 

“ Archie’s example ? What ’s that ? ” 

“I don’t know; but you do, I suppose.” 

“ What do you mean, Mr. Carter ? ” she asked, 
sitting upright. 

“Well, has he ever told you about Maggie 
Adeane ? ” 


43 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


‘‘ I never heard of her.” 

Or Lilly Courtenay ? ” 

“ That girl ! ” 

“ Or Alice Layton ? ” 

The red-haired Layton ? ” 

Or Florence CunlifFe ? ” 

“ Who was she ? ” 

“Or Millie Trehearne?” 

“ She squints, Mr. Carter.” 

“ Or — ” 

“Stop, stop! What do you mean? What 
should he tell me?” 

“Oh, I see he has n*t. Nor, I suppose, about 
Sylvia Fenton, or that little Delaney girl, or hand- 
some Miss — what was her name ? ” 

“Hold your tongue — and tell me what you 
mean.” 

“ Lady Mickleham,” said I, gravely, “ if your 
husband has not thought fit to mention these 
ladies — and others whom I could name — to you, 
how could I presume — ?” 

“ Do you mean to tell me that Archie — ? ” 

“ He’d only known you three years, you see.” 

“ Then it was before — ? ” 

“ Some of them were before,” said I. 

Lady Mickleham drew a long breath. 

“ Archie will be in soon,” said she. 

I took my hat. 


44 


A MATTER OF DUTY 

"It seems to me/' I observed, "that what is 
sauce — that, I should say, husband and wife 
ought to stand on an equal footing in these 
matters. Since he has — no doubt for good 
reasons — not mentioned to you — ” 

" Alice Layton was a positive fright." 

"She came last," said I. ‘^Just before you, 
you know. However, as I was saying — " 

" And that horrible Sylvia Fenton — " 

" Oh, he could n't have known you long then. 
As I was saying, I should, if I were you, treat him 
as he has treated you. In my case it seems to be 
too late.'’ 

" I 'm sorry I told him that." 

“ Oh, pray don't mind, it 's of no consequence. 
As to the others — " 

I should never have thought it of Archie ! " 
One never knows," said I, with an apologetic 
smile. " I don't suppose he thinks it of you." 

" I won’t tell him a single word. He may find 
out if he likes. Who was the last girl you 
mentioned ? ” 

" Is it any use trying to remember all their 
names ^ ’’ I asked in a soothing tone. “No doubt 
he ’s forgotten them by now — just as you 've 
forgotten the others." 

" And the Dowager told me that he had never 
had an attachment before." 

45 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


" Oh, if the Dowager said that ! Of course, 
the Dowager would know ! 

“ Don't be so silly, for goodness* sake ! Are 
you going ? ** 

“ Certainly I am. It might annoy Archie to 
find me here when he wants to talk to you.” 

“ Well, I want to talk to him.” 

Of course you won't repeat what I 've — ” 

I shall find out for myself,” she said. 

“ Good-by. I hope I 've removed all your 
troubles ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, thank you. I know what to do 
now, Mr. Carter.” 

“ Always send for me if you 're in any trouble. 
I have some exp — ” 

“ Good-by, Mr. Carter.” 

“ Good-by, Lady Mickleham. And remember 
that Archie, like you — ” 

“ Yes, yes; I know. Must you go ? ” 

I 'm afraid I must. I 've enjoyed our talk 
so — ” 

‘‘ There 's Archie’s step.” 

I left the room. On the stairs I met Archie. 
I shook hands sympathetically. I was sorry for 
Archie. But in great causes the individual cannot 
be considered. I had done my duty to my sex. 


\ 


46 


CHAPTER VI. 


MY LAST CHANCE. 

" Now mind/’ said Mrs. Hilary Musgrave, im- 
pressively, this is the last j^time I shall take any 
trouble about you. She ’s a very nice girl, quite 
pretty, and she’ll have a lot of money. You can 
be very pleasant when you like — ” 

This unsolicited testimonial — ” 

‘‘ Which is n’t often — and if you don’t do it 
this time I wash my hands of you. Why, how 
old are you ?” 

« Hush, Mrs. Hilary.” 

‘‘You must be nearly — ” 

“ It ’s false — false — false ! ” 

“ Come along,” said Mrs. Hilary, and she 
added, over her shoulder, “ she has a slight north- 
country accent.” 

“ It might have been Scotch,” said I. 

“ She plays the piano a good deal.” 

“ It might have been the fiddle,” said I. 

She ’s very fond of Browning.” 

“ It might have been Ibsen,” said I. 

47 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

Mrs. Hilary, seeing that I was determined to 
look on the bright side, smiled graciously on me 
and introduced me to the young lady. She was 
decidedly good-looking, fresh and sincere of aspect, 
with large inquiring eyes — eyes which I felt would 
demand a little too much of me at breakfast — but 
then a large tea-urn puts that all right. 

“ Miss Sophia Milton — Mr. Carter,” said Mrs. 
Hilary, and left us. 

Well, we tried the theatres first; but as she 
had only been to the Lyceum and I had only been 
to the Gaiety, we soon got to the end of that. 
Then we tried Art: she asked me what I thought 
of Degas : I evaded the question by criticising a 
drawing of a horse in last week’s Punch” — which 
she had n’t seen. Upon this she started literature. 
She said “ Some Qualms and a Shiver ” was the 
book of the season. I put my money on The 
Queen of the Quorn.” Dead stop again ! And 
I saw Mrs. Hilary’s eye upon me : there was 
wrath in her face. Something must be done. 

A brilliant idea seized me. I had read that 
four-fifths of the culture of England were Con- 
servative. I also was a Conservative. It was 
four to one on ! I started politics. I could 
have whooped for joy when I elicited some- 
thing particularly incisive about the ignorance 
of the masses. 


48 


MY LAST CHANCE 


I do hope you agree with me/’ said Miss 
Milton. “ The more one reads and thinks, the 
more one sees how fatally false a theory it is that 
the ignorant masses — people such as I have de- 
scribed — can ever rule a great Empire.” 

“The Empire wants gentlemen; that’s what 
it wants,” said I, nodding my head, and glancing 
triumphantly at Mrs. Hilary. 

“ Men and women,” said she, “ who are ac- 
quainted with the best that has been said and 
thought on all important subjects.” 

At the time I believed this observation to be 
original, but I have since been told that it was 
borrowed. I was delighted with it. 

“ Yes,” said I, “ and have got a stake in the 
country, you know, and know how to behave 
’emselves in the House, don’t you know ? ” 

“ What we have to do,” pursued Miss Milton, 
“ is to guide the voters. These poor rustics need 
to be informed — ” 

“Just so,” I broke in. “They have to be 
told — ” 

“ Of the real nature of the questions — ” 

“ And which candidate to support.” 

“ Or they must infallibly — ” she exclaimed. 

“ Get their marching orders,” I cried, in rapture. 
It was exactly what I always did on my small 
property. 

4 


49 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

Oh, I did n*t quite mean that,” she said re- 
proachfully. 

“ Oh, well, neither did I — quite,” I responded 
adroitly. What was wrong with the girl now ? 

But with the help of the League — ” she went 
on. 

Do you belong ? ” I cried, more delighted 
than ever. 

“ Oh, yes ! ” said she. “ I think it 's a duty. 
I worked very hard at the last election. I spent 
days distributing packages of — ” 

Then I made, I *m sorry to say, a false step. 
I observed, interrupting, — 

But it *s ticklish work now, eh ? Six months* 
* hard * would n*t be pleasant, would it ? ** 

“ What do you mean, Mr. — er — Carter ? ** 
she asked. 

I was still blind. I believe I winked, and I *m 
sure I whispered, ‘‘ TeaJ* 

Miss Milton drew herself up very straight. 

“ I do not hribe^^ she said. ‘‘ What I distribute 
is pamphlets.** 

Now, I suppose that ‘‘ pamphlets ** and ‘‘ blank- 
ets ** don’t really sound much alike, but I was 
agitated. 

“ Quite right,” said I. Poor old things ! 
They can’t afford proper fuel.” 

She rose to her feet. 

50 

\ 


MY LAST CHANCE 

"I was not joking,” she said with horrible 
severity. 

“ Neither was I/* I declared in humble apology. 

Did n't you say " blankets * ? " 

“ Pamphlets y 
« Oh!" 

There was a long pause. I glanced at Mrs. 
Hilary. Things had not fallen out as happily 
as they might, but I did not mean to give up yet. 

‘‘ I see you 're right," I said, still humbly. 

To descend to such means as I had in my 
mind is — " 

‘‘To throw away our true weapons," said she, 
earnestly. (She sat down again — good sign.) 

“ What we really need — "I began. 

“ Is a reform of the upper classes," said she. 
“ Let them give an example of duty, of self-denial, 
of frugality." 

I was not to be caught out again. 

“Just what I always say," I observed im- 
pressively. 

“ Let them put away their horse-racing, their 
betting, their luxurious living, their — " 

“ You 're right. Miss Milton," said I. 

“ Let them set an example of morality.” 

“ They should," I assented. 

Miss Milton smiled. 

“ I thought we agreed really," said she. 

51 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


I *m sure we do/* cried I ; and I winked with 
my “ off** eye at Mrs. Hilary as I sat down be- 
side Miss Milton. 

‘‘Now 1 heard of a man the other day/* said 
she, “ who *s nearly forty. He *s got an estate in 
the country. He never goes there, except for a 
few days* shooting. He lives in town. He spends 
too much. He passes an absolutely vacant ex- 
istence in a round of empty gaiety. He has by 
no means a good reputation. He dangles about, 
wasting his time and his money. Is that the sort 
of example — ? ** 

“ He*s a traitor to his class/* said I, warmly. 

“If you want him, you must look on a race- 
course, or at a tailor*s, or in some fashionable 
woman*s boudoir. And his estate looks after 
itself. He*s too selfish to marry, too idle to 
work, too silly to think.** 

I began to be sorry for this man, in spite of his 
peccadilloes. 

“ I wonder if I *ve met him/* said I. “ I ’m 
occasionally in town, when I can get time to run 
up. What *s his name ? ** 

“ I don*t think I hfeard — or I *ve forgotten. 
But he *s got the place next to a friend of mine in 
the country, and she told me all about him. She *s 
exactly the opposite sort of person — or she 
would n*t be my friend.** 

S2 


MY LAST CHANCE 

"I should think not. Miss Milton,” said I, 
admiringly. 

‘‘ Oh, I should like to meet that man, and tell 
him what I think of him ! ” said she. Such men 
as he is do more harm than a dozen agitators. So 
contemptible, too ! ” 

'' It’s revolting to think of,” said I. 

“ I ’m so glad you — ” began Miss Milton quite 
confidentially ; I pulled my chair a trifle closer, and 
cast an apparently careless glance towards Mrs. 
Hilary. Suddenly I heard a voice behind me. 

Eh, what ? Upon my honour it is ! Why, 
Carter, my boy, how are you ? Eh, what? Miss 
Milton, too, I declare ! Well, now, what a pity 
Annie did n’t come ! ” 

I disagreed. I hate Annie. But I was very glad 
to see my friend and neighbour, Robert Dinnerly. 
He ’s a sensible man — his wife ’s a little prig. 

“Oh, Mr. Dinnerly,” cried Miss Milton, “how 
funny that you should come just now ! I was 
just trying to remember the name of a man Mrs. 
Dinnerly told me about. I was telling Mr. Carter 
about him. You know him.” 

“Well, Miss Milton, perhaps I do. Describe 
him.” 

“ I don’t believe Annie ever told me his name, 
but she was talking about him at our house 
yesterday.” 


53 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


** But I was n*t there, Miss Milton.” 

‘‘No,” said Miss Milton, “but he’s got the 
next place to yours in the country.” 

I positively leapt from my seat. 

“ Why, good gracious. Carter himself, you 
mean!” cried Dinnerly, laughing. “Well, that 
is a good ’un — ha-ha-ha 1 ” 

She turned a stony glare on me. 

“ Do you live next to Mr. Dinnerly in the 
country ? ” she asked. 

I would have denied it if Dinnerly had not 
been there. As it was I blew my nose. 

“ I wonder,” said Miss Milton, “ what has 
become of Aunt Emily.” 

“ Miss Milton,” said I, “ by a happy chance 
you have enjoyed a luxury. You have told the 
man what you think of him.” 

“Yes,” said she; “ and I have only to add that 
he is also a hypocrite.” 

Pleasant, was n’t it ? Yet Mrs. Hilary says it 
was my fault 1 That ’s a woman all over 1 


54 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE LITTLE WRETCH ! 

Seeing that little Johnny Tompkins was safely 
out of the country, under injunctions to make a new 
man of himself, and to keep that new man, when 
made, at the Antipodes, I could not see anything 
indiscreet in touching on the matter in the course 
of conversation with Mrs. Hilary Musgrave. In 
point of fact, I was curious to find out what she 
knew, and, supposing she knew, what she thought. 
So I mentioned little Johnny Tompkins. 

“ Oh, the little wretch ! ” cried Mrs. Hilary. 
“You know he came here two or three times? 
Anybody can impose on Hilary.’’ 

“ Happy woman ! I — I mean unhappy man, 
Mrs. Hilary.” 

“ And how much was it he stole ? ” 

“ Hard on a thousand,” said I. For a time, 
you know, he was quite a man of fashion.” 

“ Oh, I know. He came here in his own han- 
som, perfectly dressed, and — ” 

55 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Behaved all right, did n’t he ? ” 

‘‘ Yes. Of course there was a something.” 

“Or you wouldn’t have been deceived!” said 
I, with a smile. 

“ I was n’t deceived,” said Mrs. Hilary, an 
admirable flush appearing on her cheeks. 

“That is to say, Hilary would n’t.” 

“ Oh, Hilary ! Why did n’t his employers 
prosecute him, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“ In the first place, he had that inestimable 
advantage in a career of dishonesty, — respectable 
relations.” 

“Well, but still — ” 

“His widowed mother was a trump, you know.” 

“Do you mean a good woman?” 

“ Doubtless she was ; but I meant a good card. 
However, there was another reason.” 

“I can’t see any,” declared Mrs. Hilary. 

“I ’m going to surprise you,” said 1. “ Hilary 

interceded for him.” 

“Hilary?” 

“You did n’t know it? I thought not. Well, 
he did.” 

“Why, he always pretended to want him to be 
convicted.” 

“Cunning Hilary!” said I. 

“He used to speak most strongly against him.” 

“That was his guile,” said I. 


THE LITTLE WRETCH! 


‘‘Oh, but why in the world — she began; 
then she paused, and went on again: “It was 
nothing to do with Hilary.” 

“ Hilary went with me to see him, you know, 
while they had him under lock and key at the 
firm’s offices.” 

“Did he? I never heard that.” 

“And he was much impressed with his bearing.” 

“ Well, I suppose, Mr. Carter, that if he was 
really penitent — ” 

“Never saw a man less penitent,” I interrupted. 
“ He gloried in his crime ; if I remember his exact 
expression, it was that the jam was jolly well worth 
the powder, and if they liked to send him to cho- 
kee, they could and be — and suffer accordingly, 
you know.” 

“And after that, Hilary — 1” 

“Oh, anybody can impose on Hilary, you 
know. Hilary only asked what ‘the jam’ was.” 

“It’s a horrid expression, but I suppose it 
meant acting the part of a gentleman, did n’t it?” 

“Not entirely. According to what he told 
Hilary, Johnny was in love.” 

“Oh, and he stole for some wretched — ?” 

“Now, do be careful. What do you know 
about the lady?” 

“The lady I I can imagine Johnny Tompkins’ 
ideal!” 


57 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“So can I, if you come to that/’ 

“And she must have known his money was n’t 
his own.” 

“Why must she?” I asked. “According to 
what he told Hilary, she did n’t.” 

“I don’t believe it,” said Mrs. Hilary, with 
decision. 

“ Hilary believed it!” 

“Oh, Hilary!” 

“But then, Hilary knew the girl,” 

“Hilary knew — ! You mean to say Hilary 
knew — ?” 

“No one better,” said I, composedly. 

Mrs. Hilary rose to her feet. 

“Who was the creature?” she asked sharply. 

“Come,” I expostulated, “how would you like 
it, if your young man had taken to theft, and — ’* 

“ Oh, nonsense. Tell me her name, please, 
Mr. Carter.” 

“Johnny told Hilary that just to see her and 
talk to her and sit by her was ‘worth all the 
money ’ — but, then, to be sure, it was somebody 
else’s money — and that he ’d do it again to get 
what he had got over again. Then, I ’m sorry to 
say, he swore.” 

“ And Hilary believed that stuff? ” 

“ Hilary agreed with him,” said I. “ Hilary, 
you see, knows the lady.” 

58 


THE LITTLE WRETCH 1 


“ What ’s her name, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“ Did n*t you notice his attentions to any one?” 

I notice ! You don’t mean that I Ve seen her ? ” 

‘‘ Certainly you have.” 

"Was she ever here?” 

"Yes, Mrs. Hilary. Hilary takes care of that.” 

" I shall be angry in a minute, Mr. Carter. Oh, 
I *11 have this out of Hilary 1 ” 

"I should.” 

"Who was she?” 

"According to what he told Hilary, she was the 
most fascinating woman in the world. Hilary 
thought so, too.” 

Mrs. Hilary began to walk up and down. 

"Oh, so Hilary helped to let him go, because 
they both — ?” 

"Precisely,” said I. 

"And you dare to come and tell me?” 

"Well, I thought you ought to know,” said I. 
"Hilary’s just as mad about her as Johnny — in 
fact, he said he ’d be hanged if he would n’t have 
done the same himself” 

I have once seen Madame Ristori play Lady 
Macbeth. Her performance was recalled to me 
by the tones in which Mrs. Hilary asked : 

" Who is this woman, if you please, Mr. Carter?” 

"So Hilary got him off — gave him fifty 
pounds too.” 


59 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

Glad to get him away, perhaps,’' she burst out, 
in angry scorn. 

“ Who knows ? ” said I. ‘‘ Perhaps.” 

“Her name?” demanded Lady Macbeth — I 
mean Mrs. Hilary — again. 

“ I shan’t tell you, unless you promise to say 
nothing to Hilary.” 

“ To say nothing ! Well, really — ” 

“ Oh, all right ! ” and I took up my hat. 

“ But I can watch them, can’t I ? ” 

“ As much as you like.” 

“ Won’t you tell me ? ” 

“If you promise.” 

“Well, then, I promise.” 

“ Look in the glass.” 

“ What for?” 

“To see your face, to be sure.” 

She started, blushed red, and moved a step 
towards me. 

“ You don’t mean — ? ” she cried. 

“Thou art the woman,” said I. 

“ Oh, but he never said a word — ” 

“ Johnny had his code,” said I. “And in some 
ways it was better than some people’s, — in some, 
alas ! worse.” 

“ And Hilary ? ” 

“ Really you know better than I do whether 
I ’ve told the truth about Hilary.” 

6o 


THE LITTLE WRETCH! 


A pause ensued. Then Mrs. Hilary made three 
short remarks, which I give in their order : — 

(1) “The little wretch 1 ” 

(2) “ Dear old Hilary ! ” 

(3) “ Poor little man ! 

I took my hat. I knew that Hilary was due 
from the City in a few minutes. Mrs. Hilary sat 
down by the fire. 

“ How dare you torment me so ? ” she asked, 
but not in the least like Lady Macbeth. 

“ I must have my little amusements,” said I. 

“ What an audacious little creature ! ” said 
Mrs. Hilary. “ Fancy his daring ! — Are n’t you 
astounded ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, I am. But Hilary, you see — ” 

“ It ’s nearly his time,” said Mrs. Hilary. 

I buttoned my left glove and held out my right 
hand. 

“ I Ve a good mind not to shake hands with 
you,” said she. “ Was n’t it absurd of Hilary ? ” 

“ Horribly.” 

“He ought to have been all the more angry.” 

“ Of course he ought.” 

“ The presumption of it ! ” And Mrs. Hilary 
smiled. I also smiled. 

“ That poor old mother of his,” reflected Mrs. 
Hilary. “ Where did you say she lived ? ” 

“ Hilary knows the address,” said I. 

61 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


" Silly little wretch ! mused Mrs. Hilary, still 
smiling. 

“ Good-by/' said I. 

‘‘ Good-by/' said Mrs. Hilary. 

I turned towards the door and had laid my hand 
on the knob, when Mrs. Hilary called softly, — 

“ Mr. Carter." 

‘‘ Yes," said I, turning. 

“Do you know where the little wretch has 
gone ? " 

“ Oh, yes," said I. 

“I — I suppose you don't ever write to him ? " 

“ Dear me, no," said I. 

“ But you — could?" suggested Mrs. Hilary. 

“ Of course," said I. 

She jumped up and ran towards me. Her purse 
was in one hand, and a bit of paper fluttered in the 
other. 

“ Send him that — don't tell him," she whispered, 
and her voice had a little catch in it. “ Poor little 
wretch ! " said she. 

As for me, I smiled cynically — quite cynically, 
you know : for it was very absurd. 

“ Please go," said Mrs. Hilary. 

And I went. 

Supposing it had been another woman ! Well, 
I wonder! 


62 


CHAPTER VIII. 


AN EXPENSIVE PRIVILEGE. 

A RATHER uncomfortable thing happened the 
other day which threatened a schism in my ac- 
quaintance and put me in a decidedly awkward 
position. It was no other than this : Mrs. Hilary 
Musgrave had definitely informed me that she did 
not approve of Lady Mickleham. The attitude 
is, no doubt, a conceivable one, but I was sur- 
prised that a woman of Mrs. Hilary's large sym- 
pathies should adopt it. Besides, Mrs. Hilary is 
quite good-looking herself. 

The history of the affair is much as follows : I 
called on Mrs. Hilary to see whether I could do 
anything, and she told me all about it. It appears 
that Mrs. Hilary had a bad cold and a cousin up 
from the country about the same time (she was 
justly aggrieved at the double event), and, being 
unable to go to the Duchess of Dexminster's 
‘‘ squash," she asked Dolly Mickleham to chap- 
eron little Miss Phyllis. Little Miss Phyllis, of 
63 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

course, knew no one there, — the Duchess least of 
all (but then very few of us — yes, I was there 
— knew the Duchess, and the Duchess didn’t 
know any of us ; I saw her shake hands with a 
waiter myself, just to be on the safe side), — and an 
hour after the party began, she was discovered 
wandering about in a most desolate condition. 
Dolly had told her that she would be in a certain 
place; and when Miss Phyllis came Dolly was 
not there. The poor little lady wandered about for 
another hour, looking so lost that one was inclined 
to send for a policeman ; and then she sat down 
on a seat by the wall, and in desperation asked 
her next-door neighbour if he knew Lady Mickle- 
ham by sight, and had he seen her lately. The 
next-door neighbour, by way of reply, called out 
to a quiet elderly gentleman who was sidling un- 
obtrusively about, Duke, are there any particu- 
larly snug corners in your house ? ” The Duke 
stopped, searched his memory, and said that at the 
end of the Red Corridor there was a passage ; and 
that a few yards down the passage, if you turned 
very suddenly to the right, you would come on a 
little nook under the stairs. The little nook just 
held a settee, and the settee (the Duke thought) 
might just hold two people. The next-door neigh- 
bour thanked the Duke, and observed to Miss 
Phyllis, — 


64 


AN EXPENSIVE PRIVILEGE 


“It will give me great pleasure to take you to 
Lady Mickleham.” So they went, it being then, 
according to Miss Phyllis’s sworn statement, pre- 
cisely two hours and five minutes since Dolly had 
disappeared ; and, pursuing the route indicated by 
the Duke, they found Lady Mickleham. And 
Lady Mickleham exclaimed, “ Good gracious, my 
dear, I ’d quite forgotten you ! Have you had 
an ice? Do take her to have an ice. Sir John.” 
(Sir John Berry was the next-door neighbour.) 
And with that Lady Mickleham is said to have 
resumed her conversation. 

“ Did you ever hear anything more atrocious ? ” 
concluded Mrs. Hilary. “ I really cannot think 
what Lord Mickleham is doing.” 

“ You surely mean, what Lady Mickleham — ? ” 

“No, I don’t,” said Mrs. Hilary, with extra- 
ordinary decision. “Anything might have hap- 
pened to that poor child.” 

“ Oh, there were not many of the aristocracy 
present,” said I, soothingly. 

“ But it ’s not that so much, as the thing itself. 
She ’s the most disgraceful flirt in London.” 

“ How do you know she was flirting ? ” I in- 
quired with a smile. 

“ How do I know? ” echoed Mrs. Hilary. 

“ It is a very hasty conclusion,” I persisted. 
“Sometimes I stay talking with you for an 
5 65 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

hour or more. Are you, therefore, flirting with 
me?*’ 

“ With you I ** exclaimed Mrs. Hilary, with a 
little laugh. 

“Absurd as the supposition is,” I remarked, 
“ it yet serves to point the argument. Lady 
Mickleham might have been talking with a friend 
just in the quiet, rational way in which we are 
talking now.” 

“ I don’t think that’s likely,” said Mrs. Hilary ; 
and — well, I do not like to say that she sniffed — 
it would convey too strong an idea, but she did 
make an odd little sound something like a much 
etherealised sniff. 

I smiled again, and more broadly. I was en- 
joying beforehand the little victory which I was 
to enjoy over Mrs. Hilary. 

“Yet it happens to be true,” said I. 

Mrs. Hilary was magnificently contemptuous. 

“ Lord Mickleham told you so, I suppose ? ” 
she asked. “And I suppose Lady Mickleham 
told him — poor man ! ” 

“ Why do you call him ^ poor man ’ ? ” 

“ Oh, never mind. Did he tell you ? ” 

“Certainly not. The fact is, Mrs. Hilary — 
and really, you must excuse me for having kept 
you in the dark a little — it amused me so much 
to hear your suspicions.” 

66 


AN EXPENSIVE PRIVILEGE 


Mrs. Hilary rose to her feet. 

‘‘ Well, what are you going to say ? ** she asked. 

I laughed, as I answered, — 

" Why, I was the man with Lady Mickleham 
when your friend and Berry inter — when they 
arrived, you know.” 

Well, I should have thought — I should still 
think — that she would have been pleased — re- 
lieved, you know — to find her uncharitable opinion 
erroneous, and pleased to have it altered on the 
best authority. I *m sure that is how I should 
have felt. It was not, however, how Mrs. Hilary 
felt. 

I am deeply pained,” she observed after a long 
pause ; and then she held out her hand. 

‘‘ I was sure you *d forgive my little deception,” 
said I, grasping it. I thought still that she meant 
to bury all unkindness. 

I should never have thought it of you,” she 
went on. 

I did n’t know your friend was there at all,” 
I pleaded ; for by now I was alarmed. 

Oh, please don’t shuffle like that,” said Mrs. 
Hilary. 

She continued to stand, and I rose to my feet. 
Mrs. Hilary held out her hand again. 

“ Do you mean that I ’m to go ? ” said I. 

‘‘ I hope we shall see you again some day,” said 
67 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Mrs. Hilary ; the tone suggested that she was 
looking forward to some future existence, when 
my earthly sins should have been sufficiently 
purged. It reminded me for the moment of King 
Arthur and Queen Guinevere. 

“ But I protest,’’ I began, “ that my only object 
in telling you was to show you how absurd — ” 

“ Is it any good talking about it now ? ” asked 
Mrs. Hilary. A discussion might possibly be 
fruitful in the dim futurity before mentioned — 
but not now — that was what she seemed to say. 

‘‘ Lady Mickleham and I, on the occasion in 
question — ” I began, with dignity. 

“ Pray spare me,” quoth Mrs. Hilary, with 
much greater dignity. 

I took my hat. 

“ Shall you be at home as usual on Thursday ? ” 
I asked. 

“ I have a great many people coming already,” 
she remarked. 

I can take a hint,” said I. 

‘‘ I wish you ’d take warning,” said Mrs. Hilary. 

I will take my leave,” said I ; and I did, 
leaving Mrs. Hilary in a tragic attitude in the 
middle of the room. Never again shall I go out 
of my way to lull Mrs. Hilary’s suspicions. 

A day or two after this very trying interview. 
Lady Mickleham’s victoria happened to stop 
68 


AN EXPENSIVE PRIVILEGE 


opposite where I was seated in the park. I went 
to pay my respects. 

“ Do you mean to leave me nothing in the 
world,” I asked, just by way of introducing the 
subject of Mrs. Hilary. ‘‘ One of my best friends 
has turned me out of her house on your account.” 

“ Oh, do tell me,” said Dolly, dimpling all 
over her face. 

So I told her ; I made the story as long as I 
could for reasons connected with the dimples. 

“ What fun ! ” exclaimed Dolly. “ I told you 
at the time that a young unmarried person like 
you ought to be more careful.” 

I am just debating,” I observed, ‘‘ whether 
to sacrifice you.” 

“To sacrifice me, Mr. Carter?” 

“Of course,” I explained; “if I dropped you, 
Mrs. Hilary would let me come again.” 

“How charming that would be!” cried Dolly. 
“You would enjoy her nice serious conversation 
— all about Hilary!” 

“She is apt,” I conceded, “to touch on Hilary, 
But she is very picturesque.” 

“Oh, yes, she *s handsome,” said Dolly. 

There was a pause. Then Dolly said, “Well ? ” 

“Well?” said I in return. 

“Is it good-by?” asked Dolly, drawing down 
the corners of her mouth. 

69 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“It comes to this/’ I remarked. “Supposing I 
forgive you — ” 

“ As if it was my fault ! ” 

“And risk Mrs. Hilary’s wrath — did you 
speak ? ” 

“No; I laughed, Mr. Carter.” 

“What shall I get out of it?” 

The sun was shining brightly ; it shone on Dolly ; 
she had raised her parasol, but she blinked a little 
beneath it. She was smiling slightly still, and one 
dimple stuck to its post — like a sentinel, ready to 
rouse the rest from their brief repose. Dolly lay back 
in the victoria, nestling luxuriously against the soft 
cushions. She turned her eyes for a moment on me. 

“Why are you looking at me?” she asked. 

“ Because,” said I, “ there is nothing better to 
look at.” 

“Do you like doing it?” asked Dolly. 

“It is a privilege,” said I, politely. 

“Well, then!” said Dolly. 

“But,” I ventured to observe, “it’s rather an 
expensive one.” 

“Then you must n’t have it very often.” 

“And it is shared by so many people.” 

“Then,” said Dolly, smiling indulgently, “you, 
must have it — a little oftener. Home, Roberts, 
please.” 

I am not yet allowed at Mrs. Hilary Musgrave’s, 
70 





CHAPTER IX. 

A VERY DULL AFFAIR, 

“To hear you talk/* remarked Mrs. Hilary 
Musgrave — and, if any one is surprised to find 
me at her house, I can only say that Hilary, when 
he asked me to take pot-luck, was quite ignorant 
of any ground of difference between his wife and 
myself, and that Mrs. Hilary could not very well 
eject me on my arrival in evening dress at ten 
minutes to eight — “ to hear you talk one would 
think that there was no such thing as real love.** 
She paused. I smiled. 

“Now,** she continued, turning a fine, but 
scornful eye upon me, “ I have never cared for 
any man in the world except my husband.** 

I smiled again. Poor Hilary looked very un- 
comfortable. With an apologetic air he began to 
stammer something about Parish Councils. I was 
not to be diverted by any such manoeuvre. It 
was impossible that he could really wish to talk on 
that subject. 


71 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“Would a person who had never eaten anything 
but beef make a boast of it?” I asked. 

Hilary grinned covertly. Mrs. Hilary pulled 
the lamp nearer, and took up her embroidery. 

“ Do you always work the same pattern ? ” 
said I. 

Hilary kicked me gently. Mrs. Hilary made no 
direct reply, but presently she began to talk. 

“ I was just about Phyllis’s age ” — (by the way, 
little Miss Phyllis was there) — “ when I first saw 
Hilary. You remember, Hilary? At Bourne- 
mouth ? ” 

“Oh — er — was it Bournemouth?” said Hil- 
ary, with much carelessness. 

“I was on the pier,” pursued Mrs. Hilary. “I 
had a red frock on, I remember, and one of those 
big hats they wore that year. Hilary wore — ” 

“ Blue serge,” I interpolated, encouragingly. 

“Yes, blue serge,” said she, fondly. “He had 
been yachting, and he was beautifully burnt. I 
was horribly burnt — wasn’t I, Hilary?” 

Hilary began to pat the dog. 

“ Then we got to know one another.” 

“Stop a minute,” said I. “How did that 
happen ? ” 

Mrs. Hilary blushed. 

“ Well, we were both always on the pier,” she 
explained. “ And — and somehow Hilary got to 
72 


A VERY DULL AFFAIR 

know father, and — and father introduced him to 
me. 

“ I ’m glad it was no worse,” said I. I was 
considering Miss Phyllis, who sat listening, open- 
eyed. 

And then, you know, father was n’t always 
there; and once or twice we met on the cliff. Do 
you remember that morning, Hilary ? ” 

“What morning?” asked Hilary, patting the 
dog with immense assiduity. 

“Why, the morning I had my white serge on. 
I ’d been bathing, and my hair was down to dry, 
and you said I looked like a mermaid.” 

“ Do mermaids wear white serge ? ” I asked ; 
but nobody took the least notice of me — quite 
properly. 

“ And you told me such a lot about yourself ; 
and then we found we were late for lunch.” 

“Yes,” said Hilary, suddenly forgetting the dog, 
“ and your mother gave me an awful glance.” 

“Yes, and then you told me that you were very 
poor, but that you could n’t help it ; and you said 
you supposed I could n’t possibly — ” 

“ Well, I did n’t think—!” 

“ And I said you were a silly old thing ; and 
then — ” Mrs. Hilary stopped abruptly. 

“How lovely I” remarked little Miss Phyllis, in 
a wistful voice. 


73 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


‘‘And do you remember/* pursued Mrs. Hilary, 
laying down her embroidery and clasping her 
hands on her knees, “ the morning you went to 
see father ? ** 

“ What a row there was ! ** said Hilary. 

“ And what an awful week it was after that ! I 
was never so miserable in all my life. I cried till 
my eyes were quite red, and then I bathed them 
for an hour, and then I went to the pier, and you 
were there — and I might n’t speak to you ! ” 

“ I remember,” said Hilary, nodding gently. 

“ And then, Hilary, father sent for me and told 
me it was no use; and I said I ’d never marry any- 
one else. And father said, ‘There, there, don’t 
cry. We ’ll see what mother says.’ ” 

“Your mother was a brick,” said Hilary, pok- 
ing the fire. 

“And that night — they never told me anything 
about it, and I did n’t even change my frock, but 
came down, looking horrible, just as I was, in an 
old black rag — Now, Hilary, don’t say it was 
pretty ! ” 

Hilary, unconvinced, shook his head. 

“ And when I walked into the drawing-room 
there was nobody there but just you ; and we nei- 
ther of us said anything for ever so long. And 
then father and mother came in and — do you 
remember after dinner, Hilary ? ” 

74 


A VERY DULL AFFAIR 


I remember,” said Hilary. 

There was a long pause. Mrs. Hilary was 
looking into the fire ; little Miss Phyllis’s eyes 
were fixed, in rapt gaze, on the ceiling; Hilary 
was looking at his wife ; I, thinking it safest, was 
regarding my own boots. 

At last Miss Phyllis broke the silence. 

“ How perfectly lovely ! ” she said. 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Hilary. “ And we were 
married three months afterwards.” 

‘‘Tenth of June,” said Hilary, reflectively. 

“And we had the most charming little rooms in 
the world ! Do you remember those first rooms, 
dear? So tiny!” 

“ Not bad little rooms,” said Hilary. 

“How awfully lovely!” cried little Miss Phyllis. 

I felt that it was time to interfere. 

“ And is that all?” I asked. 

“All? How do you mean?” said Mrs. Hilary, 
with a slight start. 

“ Well, I mean, did nothing else happen ? 
Weren’t there any complications? Weren’t 
there any more troubles, or any more opposition, 
or any misunderstandings, or anything?” 

“No,” said Mrs. Hilary. 

“ You never quarrelled, or broke it off?” 

“ No.” 

“ Nobody came between you?” 

75 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


*‘No. It all went just perfectly. Why, of 
course it did.'' 

Hilary's people made themselves nasty, per- 
haps ? " I suggested, with a ray of hope. 

“ They fell in love with her on the spot," said 
Hilary. 

Then I rose and stood with my back to the fire. 

‘‘ I do not know," I observed, ‘‘ what Miss 
Phyllis thinks about it — " 

I think it was just perfect, Mr. Carter." 

‘‘ But for my part, I can only say that I never 
heard of such a dull affair in all my life." 

Dull I " gasped Miss Phyllis. 

^^Bulir* murmured Mrs. Hilary. 

‘‘ Dull! " chuckled Hilary. 

It was," said I, severely, without a spark of 
interest from beginning to end. Such things hap- 
pen by thousands. It 's commonplaceness itself. 
I had some hopes when your father assumed a 
firm attitude, but — " 

‘‘ Mother was such a dear," interrupted Mrs. 
Hilary. 

‘‘Just so. She gave away the whole situation. 
Then I did trust that Hilary would lose his place, 
or develop an old flame, or do something just a 
little interesting." 

“It was a perfect time," said Mrs. Hilary. 

“ I wonder why in the world you told me about 
it," I pursued. 76 


A VERY DULL AFFAIR 


“ I don’t know why 1 did,” said Mrs. Hilary, 
dreamily. 

‘‘ The only possible excuse for an engagement 
like that,” I observed, “ is to be found in intense 
post-nuptial unhappiness.” 

Hilary rose, and advanced towards his wife. 

“Your embroidery’s falling on the floor,” said 
he. 

“ Not a bit of it,” said I. 

“ Yes, it is,” he persisted ; and he picked it up 
and gave it to her. Miss Phyllis smiled delight- 
edly. Hilary had squeezed his wife’s hand. 

“ Then we don’t excuse it,” said he. 

I took out my watch. I was not finding much 
entertainment. 

“ Surely it ’s quite early, old man ? ” said 
Hilary. 

“It’s nearly eleven. We’ve spent half-an-hour 
on the thing,” said I, peevishly, holding out my 
hand to my hostess. 

“Oh, are you going? Good-night, Mr. 
Carter.” 

I turned to Miss Phyllis. 

“I hope you won’t think all love affairs are 
like that,” I said; but I saw her lips begin to 
shape into “lovely,” and I hastily left the 
room. 

Hilary came to help me on with my coat 
77 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


He looked extremely apologetic, and very much 
ashamed of himself. 

“ Awfully sorry, old chap,” said he, “ that we 
bored you with our reminiscences. I know, of 
course, that they can’t be very interesting to 
other people. Women are so confoundedly 
romantic.” 

‘‘ Don’t try that on with me,” said I, much dis- 
gusted. “ You were just as bad yourself.” 

He laughed, as he leant against the door. 

“ She did look ripping in that white frock,” he 
said, “ with her hair — ” 

“ Stop,” said I, firmly. “She looked just like 
a lot of other girls.” 

“ I ’m hanged if she did ! ” said Hilary. 

Then he glanced at me with a puzzled sort of 
expression. 

“ I say, old man, were n’t you ever that way 
way yourself?” he asked. 

I hailed a hansom cab. 

“ Because if you were, you know, you ’d under- 
stand how a fellow remembers every — ” 

“ Good-night,” said I. “ At least, I suppose 
you ’re not coming to the club ? ” 

“ Well, I think not,” said Hilary. “ Ta-ta, old 
fellow. Sorry we bored you. Of course, if a man 
has never — ” 

“ Never 1 ” I groaned. “ A score of times ! ” 
78 


A VERY DULL AFFAIR 

“ Well, then, does n’t it — ? ” 

No,” said 1. “ It ’s just that that makes 

stories like yours so infernally — ” 

What ? ” asked Hilary ; for I had paused to 
light a cigarette. 

“ Uninteresting,” said I, getting into my cab. 


79 


CHAPTER X. 


STRANGE, BUT TRUE. 

The other day my young cousin George 
lunched with me. He is a cheery youth, and a 
member of the University of Oxford. He re- 
freshes me very much, and I believe that I have 
the pleasure of affording him some matter for 
thought. On this occasion, however, he was ex- 
tremely silent and depressed. I said little, but 
made an extremely good luncheon. Afterwards 
we proceeded to take a stroll in the Park. 

“ Sam, old boy,” said George, suddenly, I ’m 
the most miserable devil alive.” 

“ I don’t know what else you expect at your 
age,” I observed, lighting a cigar. He walked on 
in silence for a few moments. 

“ I say, Sam, old boy, when you were young, 
were you ever — ?” He paused, arranged his 
neckcloth (it was more like a bed-quilt — oh, the 
fashion, of course, I know that), and blushed a 
fine crimson. 

“Was I ever what, George?” I had the curios- 
ity to ask. 

So 


STRANGE, BUT TRUE 

Oh, well, hard hit, you know — a girl, you 
know.” 

'■‘In love, you mean, George? No, I never was.” 

‘‘ Never ? ” 

" No. Are you ? ” 

“Yes. Hang it!” Then he looked at me 
with a puzzled air and continued, — 

“ I say, though, Sam, it ’s awfully funny you 
should n't have — don’t you know what it ’s like, 
then ? ” 

“ How should I ? ” I inquired apologetically. 
“ What is it like, George ? ” 

George took my arm. 

“It’s just Hades,” he informed me confidentially. 

“Then,” I remarked, “I have no reason to 
regret — ” 

“ Still, you know,” interrupted George, “ it ’s 
not half-bad.” 

“That appears to me to be a paradox,” I 
observed. 

“ It ’s precious hard to explain it to you if 
you Ve never felt it,” said George, in rather an 
injured tone. “ But what I say is quite true.” 

“ I should n’t think of contradicting you, my 
dear fellow,” I hastened to say. 

“Let ’s sit down,” said he, “and watch the peo- 
ple driving. We may see somebody — somebody 
we know, you know, Sam.” 

6 8i 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ So we may,” said I, and we sat down. 

“ A fellow,” pursued George, with knitted 
brows, is all turned upside-down, don’t you 
know ? ” 

How very peculiar ! ” I exclaimed. 

One moment he ’s the happiest dog in the 
world, and the next — well, the next, it ’s the 
deuce.” 

“ But,” I objected, not surely without good 
reason for such a change ? ” 

Reason ? Bosh ! The least thing does it.” 

I flicked the ash from my cigar. 

“ It may,” I remarked, “ aflfect you in this 
extraordinary way, but surely it is not so with 
most people ? ” 

“ Perhaps not,” George conceded. “ Most peo- 
ple are cold-blooded asses.” 

“Very likely the explanation lies in that fact,” 
said I. 

“I did n’t mean you, old chap,” said George, with 
a penitence which showed that he had meant me. 

“ Oh, all right, all right,” said I. 

“ But when a man ’s really far gone there ’s 
nothing else in the world but it.” 

“ That seems to me not to be a healthy condi- 
tion,” said I. 

“Healthy? Oh, you old idiot, Sam ! Who’s 
talking of health? Now, only last night I met her 
82 


STRANGE, BUT TRUE 

at a dance. I had five dances with her — talked to 
her half the evening, in fact. Well, you *d think 
that would last some time, would n’t you ? ” 

‘‘ I should certainly have supposed so,” I 
assented. 

“ So it would with most chaps, I dare say, but 
with me — confound it, I feel as if I had n’t seen 
her for six months ! ” 

“ But, my dear George, that is surely rather ab- 
surd ! As you tell me, you spent a long while 
with the young person — ” 

The — young — person 1 ” 

You ’ve not told me her name, you see.” 

No, and I shan’t. I wonder if she ’ll be at 
the Musgraves’ to-night ! ” 

You ’re sure,” said I, soothingly, to meet her 
somewhere in the course of the next few weeks.” 

George looked at me. Then he observed with 
a bitter laugh, — 

“ It ’s pretty evident you "ve never had it. 
You ’re as bad as those chaps who write books.” 

‘‘ Well, but surely they often describe with 
sufficient warmth and — er — colour — ” 

Oh, I dare say ; but it ’s all wrong. At least, 
it ’s not what I feel. Then look at the girls in 
books 1 All beasts ! ” 

George spoke with much vehemence; so that 
I was led to say, — 


83 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


"The lady you are preoccupied with is, I sup- 
pose, handsome ? ’’ 

George turned swiftly round on me. 

" Look here, can you hold your tongue, Sam ? ” 

I nodded. 

" Then I *m hanged if I won’t point her out to 
you ! ” 

"That’s uncommon good of you, George,” 
said I. 

" Then you ’ll see,” continued George. " But 
it ’s not only her looks, you know, she ’s the 
most — ” 

He stopped. Looking round to see why, I 
observed that his face was red ; he clutched his 
walking-stick tightly in his left hand ; his right 
hand was trembling, as if it wanted to jump up 
to his hat. " Here she comes ! Look, look ! ” 
he whispered. 

Directing my eyes towards the lines of carriages 
which rolled past us, I observed a girl in a vic- 
toria ; by her side sat a portly lady of middle age. 
The girl was decidedly like the lady ; a descrip- 
tion of the lady would not, I imagine, be inter- 
esting. The girl blushed slightly and bowed. 
George and I lifted our hats. The victoria and 
its occupants were gone. George leant back with 
a sigh. After a moment he said, — 

"Well, that was her.” 


84 




There is n't,''* said George, “ a girl in London so couch ber'^ 



STRANGE, BUT TRUE 

%• 

There was expectancy in his tone. 

“She has an extremely prepossessing appear- 
ance/’ I observed. 

“There is n’t/’ said George, “a girl in London 
to touch her. Sam, old boy, I believe — I be- 
lieve she likes me a bit.” 

“ I ’m sure she must, George,” said I ; and, 
indeed, I thought so. 

“ The Governor ’s infernally unreasonable,” said 
George, fretfully. 

“ Oh, you ’ve mentioned it to him ? ” 

“I sounded him. Oh, you may be sure he 
did n’t see what I was up to. I put it quite 
generally. He talked rot about getting on in 
the world. Who wants to get on ? ” 

“Who, indeed ? ” said I. “ It is only changing 
what you are for something no better.” 

“ And about waiting till I know my own mind. 
Is n’t it enough to look at her ? ” 

“ Ample, in my opinion,” said I. 

George rose to his feet. 

“ They ’ve gone to a party ; they won’t come 
round again,” said he. “We may as well go, 
may n’t we ? ” 

I was very comfortable ; so I said timidly, — 

“We might see somebody else we know.” 

“ Oh, somebody else be hanged ! Who wants 
to see ’em ? ” 




THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


I ’m sure I don’t/’ said I, hastily, as I rose 
from my armchair, which was at once snapped up. 

We were about to return to the club, when I 
observed Lady Mickleham’s barouche standing 
under the trees. I invited George to come and 
be introduced. 

He displayed great indifference. 

“ She gives a good many parties,” said I ; 
and perhaps — ” 

“ By Jove ! yes. I may as well,” said George. 
“Glad you had the sense to think of that, old man.” 

So I took him up to Dolly and presented him. 
Dolly was very gracious : George is an eminently 
presentable boy. We fell into conversation. 

“ My cousin. Lady Mickleham,” said 1, “ has 
been telling me — ” 

“ Oh, shut up, Sam ! ” said George, not, how- 
ever, appearing very angry. 

“ About a subject on which you can assist him 
more than I can, inasmuch as you are married. 
He is in love.” 

Dolly glanced at George. 

“ Oh, what fun ! ” said she. 

“Fun ! ” cried George. 

“ I mean, how awfully interesting,” said Dolly, 
suddenly transforming her expression. 

“And he wanted to be introduced to you be- 
cause you might ask her and him to — ” 

S6 


STRANGE, BUT TRUE 

George became red, and began to stammer an 
apology. 

Oh, I don’t believe him,” said Dolly, kindly ; 
he always makes people uncomfortable if he can. 
What were you telling him, Mr. George? ” 

“ It’s no use telling him anything. He can’t 
understand,” said George. 

‘Hs she very — ?” asked Dolly, fixing doubt- 
fully grave eyes on my young cousin. 

“Sam’s seen her,” said he, in an access of shyness. 

Dolly turned to me for an opinion, and I gave 
one : — 

“ She is just,” said I, “ as charming as he thinks 
her.” 

Dolly leant over to my cousin, and whispered, 
“ Tell me her name.” And he whispered some- 
thing back to Dolly. 

“ It ’s awfully kind of you. Lady Mickleham,” 
he said. 

“ I am a kind old thing,” said Dolly, all over 
dimples. “ I can easily get to know them.” 

“ Oh, you really are awfully kind. Lady Mick- 
leham.” 

Dolly smiled upon him, waved her hand to me, 
and drove off, crying, — 

“ Do try to make Mr. Carter understand ! ” 

We were left alone. George wore a meditative 
smile. Presently he roused himself to say, — 

§7 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


‘‘ She 's really a very kind woman. She ’s so 
sympathetic. She's not like you. I expect she 
felt it once herself, you know." 

One can never tell," said I, carelessly. Per- 
haps she did — once." 

George fell to brooding again. I thought I 
would try an experiment. 

‘‘Not altogether bad-looking, either, is she?” 
I asked, lighting a cigarette. 

George started. 

“ What ? Oh, well, I don't know. I suppose 
some people might think so." 

He paused, and added, with a bashful, knowing 
smile, — 

“ You can hardly expect me to go into raptures 
about her, can you, old man ? ” 

I turned my head away, but he caught me. 

“ Oh, you need n't smile in that infernally 
patronising way," he cried angrily. 

“Upon my word, George,” said I, “I don't 
know that I need." 


88 


CHAPTER XL 


THE VERY LATEST THING. 

‘Ht’s the very latest thing,” said Lady Mickle- 
ham, standing by the table in the smoking-room, 
and holding an album in her hand. 

I wish it had been a little later still,” said 
I, for I felt embarrassed. 

‘‘ You promise, on your honour, to be absolutely 
sincere, you know, and then you write what you 
think of me. See what a lot of opinions I Ve got 
already,” and she held up the thick album. 

‘‘ It would be extremely interesting to read them,” 
I observed. 

“ Oh ! but they *re quite confidential,” said 
Dolly. ‘^That's part of the fun.” 

“ I don’t appreciate that part,” said I. 

Perhaps you will when you Ve written yours,” 
suggested Lady Mickleham. 

“ Meanwhile, may n’t I see the Dowager’s P ” 

“Well, I ’ll show you a little bit of the Dow- 
ager’s. Look here : ‘ Our dear Dorothea is still 
perhaps just a thought wanting in seriousness, but 
89 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

the sense of her position is having a sobering 
effect/ ’’ 

“I hope not,” I exclaimed apprehensively. 
“ Whose is this ? ” 

Archie's.” 

May I see a bit — ? ” 

‘‘Not a bit,” said Dolly. “Archie’s is — is 
rather foolish, Mr. Carter.” 

“So I suppose,” said I. 

“ Dear boy ! ” said Dolly, reflectively. 

“ I hate sentiment,” said I. “ Here 's a long 
one. Who wrote — ? ” 

“ Oh, you must n't look at that — not at that, 
above all ! ” 

“ Why above all ? ” I asked with some severity. 

Dolly smiled ; then she observed in a soothing 
tone, — 

“ Perhaps it won't be ‘ above all ' when you 've 
written yours, Mr. Carter.” 

“ By the way,” I said carelessly, “ I suppose 
Archie sees all of them ? ” 

“He has never asked to see them,” answered 
Lady Mickleham. 

The reply seemed satisfactory; of course, Archie 
had only to ask. I took a clean quill and prepared 
to write. 

“ You promise to be sincere, you know,” Dolly 
reminded me. 


90 


THE VERY LATEST THING 


I laid down my pen. 

Impossible ! ” said I, firmly. 

« Oh, but why, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“ There would be an end of our friendship.*’ 

Do you think as badly of me as all that ? *’ 
asked Dolly, with a rueful air. 

I leant back in my chair and looked at Dolly. 
She looked at me. She smiled. I may have 
smiled. 

‘‘ Yes,** said I. 

“Then you need n*t write it quite all down,’* said 
Dolly. 

“ I am obliged,** said I, taking up my pen. 

“You mustn’t say what is n*t true, but you 
need n*t say everything that is — that might be — 
true,** explained Dolly. 

This, again, seemed satisfactory. I began to 
write, Dolly sitting opposite me with her elbows 
on the table, and watching me. 

After ten minutes* steady work, which included 
several pauses for reflection, I threw down the 
pen, leant back in my chair, and lit a cigarette. 

“ Now read it,** said Dolly, her chin in her 
hands and her eyes fixed on me. 

“ It is, on the whole,** I observed, “ com- 
plimentary.** 

“No, really?** said Dolly. “Yet you prom- 
ised to be sincere/* 

91 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

‘‘You would not have had me disagreeable? ” I 
asked. 

“ That ^s a different thing/' said Dolly. “ Read 
it, please.” 

“ Lady Mickleham,” I read, “ is usually ac- 
counted a person of considerable attractions. She 
is widely popular, and more than one woman has 
been known to like her.” 

“ I don’t quite understand that,” interrupted 
Dolly. 

“ It is surely simple,” said I ; and I read on 
without delay. “She is kind even to her husband, 
and takes the utmost pains to conceal from her 
mother-in-law anything calculated to distress that 
lady.” 

“ I suppose you mean that to be nice ? ” said Dolly. 

“ Of course,” I answered ; and I proceeded : 
“ She never gives pain to any one, except with 
the object of giving pleasure to somebody else, and 
her kindness is no less widely diffused than it is 
hearty and sincere.” 

“ That really is nice,” said Dolly, smiling. 

“ Thank you,” said I, smiling also. “ She is 
very charitable : she takes a pleasure in encourag- 
ing the shy and bashful — ” 

“ How d,o you know that ? ” asked Dolly. 

“ While,” I pursued, “ suffering without impa- 
tience a considerable amount of self-assurance.” 

92 


THE VERY LATEST THING 


You can’t know whether I ’m patient or not,” 
remarked Dolly. ‘‘ I ’m polite.” 

“ She thinks,” I read on, no evil of the most 
attractive of women, and has a smile for the most 
unattractive of men.” 

‘‘You put that very nicely,” said Dolly, nodding. 

“The former may constantly be seen in her 
house — and the latter at least as often as many 
people would think desirable.” (Here for some 
reason Dolly laughed.) “ Her intellectual powers 
are not despicable.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Carter.” 

“ She can say what she means on the occasions 
on which she wishes to do so, and she is, at other 
times, equally capable of meaning much more than 
she would be likely to say.” 

“ How do you mean that, Mr. Carter, please? ” 

“ It explains itself,” said I, and I proceeded : 
“The fact of her receiving a remark with disap- 
probation does not necessarily mean that it causes 
her displeasure, nor must it be assumed that she 
did not expect a visitor, merely on the ground 
that she greets him with surprise.” 

Here I observed Lady Mickleham looking at 
me rather suspiciously. 

“ I don’t think that ’s quite nice of you, Mr. 
Carter,” she said pathetically. 

“ Lady Mickleham is, in short,” I went on, 
93 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


coming to my peroration, ‘‘ equally deserving of 
esteem and affection — ” 

“ Esteem and affection I That sounds just 
right,” said Dolly, approvingly. 

“And those who have been admitted to the 
enjoyment of her friendship are unanimous in 
discouraging all others from seeking a similar 
privilege.” 

“ I beg your pardon ? ” cried Lady Mickleham. 

“ Are unanimous,” I repeated slowly and dis- 
tinctly, “ in discouraging all others from seeking a 
similar privilege.” 

Dolly looked at me, with her brow slightly 
puckered. I leant back, puffing at my cigarette. 
Presently — for there was quite a long pause — 
Dolly’s lips curved. 

“My mental powers are not despicable,” she 
observed. 

“ I have said so,” said I. 

“ I think I see,” she remarked. 

“ Is there anything wrong? ” I asked anxiously. 

“N-no,” said Dolly, “not exactly wrong. In 
fact, I rather think I like that last bit best. Still, 
don’t you think — ?” 

She rose, came round the table, took up the pen, 
and put it back in my hand. 

“ What ’s this for ? ” I asked. 

“To correct the mistake,” said Dolly. 

94 


THE VERY LATEST THING 

‘‘ Do you really think so ? ** said I. 

‘‘ I ’m afraid so/’ said Dolly. 

I took the pen and made a certain alteration. 
Dolly took up the album. 

“‘Are unanimous/” she read, “‘in encourag- 
ing all others to seek a similar privilege.’ Yes, 
you meant that, you know, Mr. Carter.” 

“ I suppose I must have,” said I, rather sulkily. 

“ The other was nonsense,” urged Dolly. 

“ Oh, utter nonsense,” said I. 

“ And you had to write the truth ! ” 

“Yes, I had to write some of it.” 

“ And nonsense can’t be the truth, can it, Mr. 
Carter ? ” 

“ Of course it can’t. Lady Mickleham.” 

“Where are you going, Mr. Carter?” she 
asked ; for I rose from my chair. 

“To have a quiet smoke,” said I. 

“ Alone ? ” asked Dolly. 

“Yes, alone,” said I. 

I walked towards the door. Dolly stood by the 
table fingering the album. I had almost reached 
the door ; then I happened to look round. 

“ Mr. Carter ! ” said Dolly, as though a new 
idea had struck her. 

“ What is it. Lady Mickleham ? ” 

“ Well, you know, Mr. Carter, I — I shall try 
to forget that mistake of yours.” 

95 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ You *re very kind. Lady Mickleham.” 

But,” said Dolly, with a troubled smile, I — 
I 'm quite afraid I shan’t succeed, Mr. Carter.” 

After all, the smoking-room is meant for 
smoking. 




96 


CHAPTER XII. 


AN UNCOUNTED HOUR. 


We were standing, Lady Mickleham and I, at 
a door which led from the morning-room to the 
terrace at The Towers. I was on a visit to that 
historic pile (by Vanbrugh — out of the money 
accumulated by the third Earl — Paymaster to 
the Forces — temp. Queen Anne). The morning- 
room is a large room. Archie was somewhere in 
it. Lady Mickleham held a jar containing pat'e 
de foie gras ; from time to time she dug a piece 
out with a fork and flung the morsel to a big 
retriever which was sitting on the terrace. The 
morning was fine but cloudy. Lady Mickleham 
wore blue. The dog swallowed the pati with 
greediness. 

It 's so bad for him,” sighed she ; “ but the 
dear likes it so much.” 

“ How human the creatures are ! ” said 1. 

‘‘Do you know,” pursued Lady Mickleham, 
“ that the Dowager says I *m extravagant. She 
thinks dogs ought not to be fed on pati de foie 
grasr 
7 


97 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Your extravagance/* I observed, ‘‘ is probably 
due to your having been brought up on a mod- 
erate income. I have felt the effect myself.** 

‘‘ Of course,** said Dolly, ‘‘we are hit by the 
agricultural depression.** 

“ The Carters also,** I murmured, “ are landed 
gentry.** 

“ After all, I don*t see much point in economy, 
do you, Mr. Carter ? ** 

“ Economy,** I remarked, putting my hands in 
my pockets, “ is going without something you do 
want in case you should, some day, want some- 
thing which you probably won’t want.** 

“ Is n*t that clever ? ** asked Dolly, in an appre- 
hensive tone. 

“ Oh, dear, no,** I answered reassuringly. 
“ Anybody can do that — if they care to try, you 
know.** 

Dolly tossed a piece pM to the retriever. 

“ I have made a discovery lately,** I observed. 

“ What are you two talking about ? ** called 
Archie. 

“ You *re not meant to hear,** said Dolly, with- 
out turning round. 

“Yet if it *s a discovery, he ought to hear it.** 

“ He *s made a good many lately,’* said Dolly. 

She dug out the last bit of pat'e^ flung it to the 
dog, and handed the empty pot to me. 

98 


AN UNCOUNTED HOUR 


Don’t be so allegorical/’ I implored. Besides, 
it’s really not just to Archie. No doubt the dog 
is a nice one, but — ” 

“How foolish you are this morning! What’s 
the discovery ? ” 

“ An entirely surprising one.” 

“ Oh, but let me hear I It ’s nothing about 
Archie, is it ? ” 

“No. I ’ve told you all Archie’s sins.” 

“ Nor Mrs. Hilary ? I wish it was Mrs. 
Hilary I ” 

“ Shall we walk on the terrace ? ” I suggested. 

“ Oh, yes, let ’s,” said Dolly, stepping out, and 
putting on a broad-brimmed, low-crowned hat, 
which she caught up from a chair hard by. “It 
is n’t Mrs. Hilary?” she added, sitting down on a 
garden seat. 

“ No,” said I, leaning on a sun-dial which stood 
by the seat. 

“ Well, what is it ? ” 

“ It is simple,” said I, “and serious. It is not, 
therefore, like you. Lady Mickleham.” 

“ It ’s like Mrs. Hilary,” said Dolly. 

“No; because it isn’t pleasant. By the way, 
are you jealous of Mrs. Hilary ? ” 

Dolly said nothing at all. She took off her 
hat, roughened her hair a little, and assumed an 
effective pose. Still, it is a fact (for what it is 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

worth) that she doesn’t care much about Mrs. 
Hilary. 

“ The discovery,” I continued, is that I ’m 
growing middle-aged.” 

“ You are middle-aged,” said Dolly, spearing 
her hat with its long pin. 

I was, very naturally, nettled at this. 

‘‘ So will you be soon,” I retorted. 

‘^Not soon,” said Dolly. 

“ Some day,” I insisted. 

After a pause of about half a minute, Dolly said, 
“ I suppose so.” 

“You will become,” I pursued, idly drawing 
patterns with my finger on the sun-dial, “ wrinkled, 
rough, fat — and, perhaps, good.” 

“You’re very disagreeable to-day,” said Dolly. 

She rose and stood by me. 

“ What do the mottoes mean?” she asked. 

There were two : I will not say they contra- 
dicted one another, but they looked at life from 
different points of view. 

“ Pereunt et imputantur^’* I read. 

“Well, what’s that, Mr. Carter? ” 

“A trite, but offensive, assertion,” said I, light- 
ing a cigarette. 

“ But what does it mean?” she asked, a pucker 
on her forehead. 

“What does it matter?” said 1. “Let’s try 
the other.” loo 


AN UNCOUNTED HOUR 

“ The other is longer.” 

“And better. Horas non numero nisi serenas.^* 

“ And what ’s that ? ” 

I translated literally. Dolly clapped her hands, 
and her face gleamed with smiles. 

“ I like that one ! ” she cried. 

“ Stop ! ” said I, imperatively. “ You ’ll set it 
moving ! ” 

“ It 's very sensible,” said she. 

“More freely rendered, it means, H live only 
when you — ” 

“ By Jove ! ” remarked Archie, coming up 
behind us, pipe in mouth, “ there was a lot of rain 
last night. I 've just measured it in the gauge.” 

“Some people measure everything,” said I, with 
a displeased air. “ It is a detestable habit.” 

“ Archie, what does Pereunt et imputantur 
mean ? ” 

“ Eh ? Oh, I see. Well, I say. Carter ! — Oh, 
well, you know, I suppose it means you Ve got to 
pay for your fun, does n’t it ? ” 

“Oh, is that all ? I was afraid it was something 
horrid. Why did you frighten me, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“ I think it is rather horrid,” said I. 

“Why, it is n’t even true,” said Dolly, scornfully. 

Now when I heard this ancient and respectable 
legend thus cavalierly challenged I fell to studying 
it again, and presently I exclaimed, — 

101 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“Yes, you *re right ! If it said that, it would n’t 
be true ; but Archie translated wrong.” 

“ Well, you have a shot,” suggested Archie. 

“ The oysters are eaten and put down in the 
bill,” said I. And you will observe, Archie, 
that it does not say in whose bill.” 

« Ah ! ” said Dolly. 

“ Well, somebody ’s got to pay,” persisted 
Archie. 

Oh, yes, somebody,” laughed Dolly. 

‘‘Well, I don’t know,” said Archie. “I suppose 
the chap that has the fun — ” 

“ It’s not always a chap,” observed Dolly. 

“Well, then, the individual,” amended Archie. 
“ I suppose he ’d have to pay.” 

“It does n’t say so,” I remarked mildly. “ And 
according to my small experience — ” 

“ I ’m quite sure your meaning is right, Mr. 
Carter,” said Dolly, in an authoritative tone. 

“ As for the other motto, Archie,” said I, “ it 
merely means that a woman considers all hours 
wasted which she does not spend in the society of 
her husband.” 

“ Oh, come, you don’t gammon me,” said 
Archie. “ It means that the sun don’t shine 
unless it ’s fine, you know.” 

Archie delivered this remarkable discovery in a 
tone of great self-satisfaction. 

103 


AN UNCOUNTED HOUR 


“ Oh, you dear old thing ! said Dolly. 

Well, it does, you know,” said he. 

There was a pause. Archie kissed his wife (I 
am not complaining ; he has, of course, a perfect 
right to kiss his wife) and strolled away towards 
the hot-houses. 

I lit another cigarette. Then Dolly, pointing 
to the stem of the dial, cried, — 

“ Why, here ’s another inscription — oh, and in 
English ! ” 

She was right. There was another — carelessly 
scratched on the old battered column — nearly 
effaced, for the characters had been but lightly 
marked — and yet not, as I conceived from the 
tenor of the words, very old. 

‘‘What is it?” asked Dolly, peering over my 
shoulder, as I bent down to read the letters, and 
shading her eyes with her hand. (Why did n’t 
she put on her hat? We touch the Incom- 
prehensible.) 

“It is,” said I, “a singularly poor, shallow, 
feeble, and undesirable little verse.” 

“ Read it out,” said Dolly. 

So I read it. The silly fellow had written : 

** Life is Love, the poets tell us. 

In the little books they sell us ; 

But pray, ma’am — what ’s of Life the Use, 

If Life be Love ? For Love ’s the Deuce.” 

103 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Dolly began to laugh gently, digging the pin 
again into her hat. 

‘‘ I wonder,'' said \§he, whether they used to 
come and sit by this old dial just as we did this 
morning ! " 

“ I should n't be at all surprised," said 1. And 
another point occurs to me. Lady Mickleham." 

“ Oh, does it? What's that, Mr. Carter ? " 

Do you think that anybody measured the 
rain-gauge ? " 

Dolly looked at me very gravely. 

“ I 'm so sorry when you do that," said she, 
pathetically. 

I smiled. 

“ I really am," said Dolly. But you don't 
mean it, do you ? " 

“ Certainly not," said L 

Dolly smiled. 

‘‘No more than he did!" said I, pointing to 
the sun-dial. 

And then we both smiled. 

“ Will this hour count, Mr. Carter ? " asked 
Dolly, as she turned away. 

“ That would be rather strict," said I. 


\ 


104 


CHAPTER XIII. 


A REMINISCENCE. 

" I KNOW exactly what your mother wants, 
Phyllis/* observed Mrs. Hilary. 

‘‘ It ’s just to teach them the ordinary things/* 
said little Miss Phyllis. 

‘^What are the ordinary things?** I ventured 
to ask. 

What all girls are taught, of course, Mr. 
Carter/* said Mrs. Hilary. “ I *11 write about it 
at once.** And she looked at me as if she 
thought that I might be about to go. 

“ It is a comprehensive curriculum,** I re- 
marked, crossing my legs, ‘‘ if one may judge 
from the results. How old are your younger 
sisters, Miss Phyllis ? *’ 

“ Fourteen and sixteen/* she answered. 

‘‘ It is a pity, * said I, “ that this did n’t happen 
a little while back. I knew a governess who 
would have suited the place to a ‘t.*** 

Mrs. Hilary smiled scornfully. 

‘‘We used to meet/* I continued. 

105 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“Who used to meet ? ” asked Miss Phyllis. 

“ The governess and myself, to be sure,” said 
I, “ under the old apple-tree in the garden at the 
back of the house.” 

“ What house, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“ My father’s house, of course. Miss Phyllis. 
And — ” 

“ Oh, but that must be ages ago ! ” cried she. 

Mrs. Hilary rose, cast one glance at me, ana 
turned to the writing-table. Her pen began to 
scratch almost immediately. 

“ And under the apple-tree,” I pursued, “ we 
had many pleasant conversations.” 

“ What about ? ” asked Miss Phyllis. 

“ One thing and another,” I returned. “ The 
schoolroom windows looked out that way, — a 
circumstance which made matters more comfort- 
able for everybody.” 

“ I should have thought — ” began Miss Phyl- 
lis, smiling slightly, but keeping an apprehensive 
eye on Mrs. Hilary’s back. 

“ Not at all,” I interrupted. “ My sisters saw 
us, you see. Well, of course they entertained an 
increased respect for me, which was all right, and 
a decreased respect for the governess, which was 
also all right. We met in the hour allotted to 
French lessons — by an undesigned but appro- 
priate coincidence.” 

106 


A REMINISCENCE 


“ I shall say about thirty-five, Phyllis,” called 
Mrs. Hilary from the writing-table. 

‘‘ Yes, Cousin Mary,” called Miss Phyllis. 
‘‘ Did you meet often, Mr. Carter ? ” 

Every evening in the French hour,” said I. 
She 'll have got over any nonsense by then,” 
called Mrs. Hilary. “ They 're often full of it.” 

She had remarkably pretty hair,” I continued; 
“ very soft it was. Dear me ! I was just twenty.” 

“ How old was she ? ” asked Miss Phyllis. 

“ One's first love,” said I, “ is never any age. 
Everything went very well. Happiness was 
impossible. I was heart-broken, and the gover- 
ness was far from happy. Ah, happy, happy 
times ! ” 

“ But you don't seem to have been happy,” 
objected Miss Phyllis. 

‘‘ Then came a terrible evening — ” 

She ought to be a person of active habits,” 
called Mrs. Hilary. 

I think so, yes. Cousin Mary. Oh, what 
happened, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“ And an early riser,” added Mrs. Hilary. 

“Yes, Cousin Mary. What did happen, Mr. 
Carter ? ” 

“ My mother came in during the French hour. 
I don't know whether you have observed, Miss 
Phyllis, Tiow easy it is to slip into the habit of 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


entering rooms when you had better remain out- 
side. Now, even my friend Arch — However, 
that’s neither here nor there. My mother, as I 
say, came in.” 

“ Church of England, of course, Phyllis ? 
called Mrs. Hilary. 

Oh, of course^ Cousin Mary,” cried little Miss 
Phyllis. 

‘‘The sect makes no difference,” I observed. 
“Well, my sisters, like good girls, began to repeat 
the irregular verbs. But it was no use. We were 
discovered. That night. Miss Phyllis, I nearly 
drowned myself.” 

“ You must have been — Oh, how awful, Mr. 
Carter ! ” 

“ That is to say, I thought how effective it 
would be if I drowned myselt. Ah, well, it 
could n’t last ! ” 

“ And the governess ? ” 

“ She left next morning.” 

There was a pause. Miss Phyllis looked sad 
and thoughtful : I smiled pensively and beat my 
cane against my leg. 

“ Have you ever seen her since ? ” asked Miss 
Phyllis. 

“ No.” 

“ Should n’t — should n’t you like to, Mr. 
Carter?” - 

io8 


A REMINISCENCE 


“ Heaven forbid ! ” said I. 

Suddenly. Mrs. Hilary pushed back her chair, 
and turned round to us. 

“Well, I declare,*' said she, “I must be grow- 
ing stupid. Here have I been writing to the 
Agency, when I know of the very thing myself! 
The Polwheedles* governess is just leaving them ; 
she ’s been there over fifteen years. Lady Pol- 
wheedle told me she was a treasure. I wonder if 
she *d go 1 ” 

“Is she what mamma wants ? ” 

“My dear, you *11 be most lucky to get her. 
I *11 write at once and ask her to come to lunch 
to-morrow. I met her there. She *s an admirable 
person.** 

Mrs. Hilary wheeled round again. I shook 
my head at Miss Phyllis. 

“ Poor children 1 ** said I. “ Manage a bit of 
fun for them sometimes.** 

Miss Phyllis assumed a staid and virtuous air. 

“ They must be properly brought up, Mr. 
Carter,** said she. 

“Is there a House Opposite ? ** I asked ; and 
Miss Phyllis blushed. 

Mrs. Hilary advanced, holding out a letter. 

“You may as well post this for me,** said she. 
“ Oh, and would you like to come to lunch to- 
morrow ? ” 

109 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


‘‘To meet the Paragon ? ” 

“ No, She ’ll be there, of course ; but you see 
it ’s Saturday, and Hilary will be here ; and I 
thought you might take him off somewhere and 
leave Phyllis and me to have a quiet talk with 
her.” 

“ That won’t amuse her much,” I ventured to 
remark. ^ 

“ She ’s not coming to be amused^^ said Mrs. 
Hilary, severely. 

“All right ; I ’ll come,” said I, taking my hat. 

“ Here ’s the note for Miss Bannerman,” said 
Mrs. Hilary. 

That sort of thing never surprises me. I looked 
at the letter and read “ Miss M. E. Bannerman.” 
“ M. E.” stood for “ Maud Elizabeth.” I put 
my hat back on the table. 

“What sort of a looking person is this Miss 
Bannerman ? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, a spare, upright woman — hair a little 
gray, and — I don’t know how to describe it — 
her face looks a little weather-beaten. She wears 
glasses.” 

“Thank you,” said I. “And what sort of a 
looking person am I ? ” 

Mrs. Hilary looked scornful. Miss Phyllis 
opened her eyes. 

“ How old do I look, Miss Phyllis? ” I asked, 
no 


A REMINISCENCE 

Miss Phyllis scanned me from top to toe. 

** I don't know/' she said uncomfortably. 

“ Guess/' said I, sternly. 

“F-forty-three— oh, or forty-two?" she asked, 
with a timid upward glance. 

When you 've done your nonsense — " began 
Mrs. Hilary ; but I laid a hand on her arm. 

Should you call me fat ? " I asked. 

“ Oh, no, not faty' said Mrs. Hilary, with a 
smile, which she strove to render reassuring. 

I am undoubtedly bald," I observed. 

“ You 're certainly bald," said Mrs. Hilary, 
with regretful candour. 

I took my hat and remarked, — 

A man has a right to think of himself, but I 
am not thinking mainly of myself. I shall not 
come to lunch." 

You said you would," cried Mrs. Hilary, 
indignantly. 

I poised the letter in my hand, reading again. 
Miss M(aud) E(lizabeth) Bannerman." Miss 
Phyllis looked at me curiously, Mrs. Hilary 
impatiently. 

“ Who knows," said I, “ that I may not be a 
Romance — a Vanished Dream — a Green Mem- 
ory — an Oasis ? A person who has the fortune 
to be an Oasis, Miss Phyllis, should be very care- 
ful. I will not come to lunch." 


Ill 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Do you mean that you used to know Miss 
Bannerman ? ” asked Mrs. Hilary, in her pleasant 
prosaic way. 

It was a sin seventeen years old : it would 
hardly count against the blameless Miss Banner- 
man now. 

“ You may tell her when I 'm gone,” said I to 
Miss Phyllis. 

Miss Phyllis whispered in Mrs. Hilary’s ear. 

‘‘Another!” cried Mrs. Hilary, aghast. 

“It was the very first,” said I, defending myself. 

Mrs. Hilary began to laugh. I smoothed my 
hat. 

“Tell her,” said I, “that I remembered her 
very well.” 

“ I shall do no such thing,” said Mrs. Hilary. 

“And tell her,” I continued, “that I am still 
handsome.” 

“ I shan’t say a word about you,” said Mrs. 
Hilary. 

“ Ah, well, that will be better still,” said I. 

“ She ’ll have forgotten your very name,” 
remarked Mrs. Hilary. 

I opened the door, but a thought struck me. I 
turned round and observed, — 

“ I dare say her hair ’s just as soft as ever. 
Still — I ’ll lunch some other day.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


ANCIENT HISTORY. 

I Ve been hearing something about you, Mr. 
Carter,” Dolly remarked, stroking the Persian 
kitten which she had bought to match her 
hair. 

‘‘ I *m very weak. I shall like to hear it too.” 
And I sat down. 

Dolly kissed the kitten and went on. ‘‘ About 
you and Dulcie Mildmay.” 

‘‘ That ’s very ancient history,” said I, rather 
disgusted. 

‘‘You admit it is history, though ? ” 

“ History is what women have agreed to repeat. 
Lady Mickleham.” 

“ Oh, if you ’re going to take it like that ! I 
thought we were friends — and — ” 

“There is no greater mark of friendship,” I 
observed, “ than a complete absence of interest in 
one ’s doings.” 

“ An absence of interest ? ” smiled Dolly, re- 
tying the kitten’s bow in a meditative way. 

8 II3 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


‘‘It makes the heart grow fonder (not, of 
course, that that’s desirable)^ You notice, for 
example, that I don’t ask where Archie is. It ’s 
not my business ; it ’s enough for me that he is n’t 
here.” 

“You always were easily pleased,” said Dolly, 
kindly. 

“ So with you and me. When we are together, 
we are — ” 

“ Friends,” said she, with a touch of firmness, 
as I thought. 

“We are, as I was about to say, happy. When 
I ’m away, what am I to you ? Nothing ! ” 

“Well, I ’ve an awful lot to do,” murmured 
Dolly. 

“And what are you to me? ” I pursued. “A 
pleasing memory ! ” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Carter. But about Dulcie 
Mildmay ? ” 

“Very well; only I wish you’d be a little 
more recent.” 

“ You were in love with her, you know.” 

“ I trust I ’m always ready to learn,” said I, 
resignedly. 

“ Oh, it ’s not as if I meant there was anything 
— anything there ought n’t to be.” 

“ Then indeed we would discuss it.” 

“ It was long before she married.” 


ANCIENT HISTORY 

“ You must really forgive me then. She mar- 
ried in — ’94. April 15th, to be precise. I beg 
your pardon, Lady Mickleham ? ’’ 

I just smiled. You Ve such a splendid mem- 
ory for dates.” 

‘‘ Uncle Joseph died last week and left me a 
legacy.” 

It* s really no use, Mr. Carter. Mrs. Hilary 
told me all about it.” 

‘‘ I never can conceal anything. It don't do, 
from Mrs. Hilary.” 

‘‘You very nearly proposed to Dulcie, down the 
river one day. She had great difficulty in stop- 
ping you.” 

“ Preposterous ! Is there ever any difficulty in 
stopping me ? ” 

Dolly placed the kitten on her left shoulder, 
so that it could rub its face against her ear. This 
action had all the effect of an observation. 

“ Though what you saw in her I can't think,” 
she added. 

“You should have asked me at the time,” said I. 

“Anyhow you were quite depressed for a month 
afterwards — Mrs. Hilary said so.” 

“ Occasionally,” I remarked, “ Mrs. Hilary 
does me justice. I should have been depressed 
only — ” 

“ Only what ? ” 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Thankfulness supervened,” said 1. 

Then you did nearly — ? ” 

Oh, well, I was a little tempted, perhaps.” 

“You oughtn’t to yield to temptation.” 

“Well, somebody must, or the thing becomes 
absurd,” said 1. 

“ I shall have to keep my eye on you, Mr. Carter.” 

’ “Well, I like having pretty things about me — ” 

“ That ’s rather obvious,” interrupted Dolly, 
scornfully. 

“And so,” I pursued, “I daresay I enjoyed 
myself with Dulcie Mildmay.” 

Dolly put the kitten down on the floor with 
quite a bump. I took my hat. 

“Your story,” said I, as I brushed my hat, 
“ has n’t come to much. Lady Mickleham.” 

Dolly was not put out ; nay, she picked up the 
kitten again and started rubbing its fur the wrong 
way. 

“When you were a child, Mr. Carter — ” she 
began. 

“ Dear, dear I ” I murmured, stroking the crown 
of my head. 

“ Did you use to tell the truth ? ” 

I put my hat back on the table. The conversa- 
tion began to interest me. 

“You may have noticed/’ said I, “that I am a 
man of method ! ” 

ii6 


ANCIENT HISTORY 

“ You do call regularly/* Dolly agreed. 

I was the same at the B. C. sort of period you 
refer to. I had an invariable rule. I lied first.” 

“ Yes, and then — ? ’* 

“ Oh, they made a row. Then I told the truth, 
and was rewarded. If I *d told the truth the first 
time, you see, I should have got nothing. The 
thing would have degenerated into a matter of 
course, and I should have lost the benefit of 
confession.** 

“ You got off, I suppose, by confessing ? ** 

‘‘ I did. A halcyon period. Lady Mickleham. 
In later life one gets off by professing. Have you 
observed the difference ? ** 

“ Professing what ? ** 

‘^An attachment to somebody else, to be sure. 
Weren*t we talking of Dulcie Mildmay?** 

“ I asked you that question because Mrs. Hil- 
ary*s little girl — ** 

“ I am acquainted with that sad episode,” I 
interposed. “ Indeed, I took occasion to observe 
that I hoped it would make Mrs. Hilary more 
charitable to other people. As a matter of fact, it 
rather pleased me. Righteousness should n*t run 
in families. It is all very well as a ‘ Sport,* but — ** 

‘‘ I don*t see much sport in it,** interrupted 
Dolly. 

“ I was speaking scientifically — ” 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ Then please don’t/* She paused and resumed 
in a thoughtful tone. ‘‘ It reminded me of my 
first flirtation.” 

This is indeed ancient history,” I cried. 

‘‘Yes, I *m twenty-four.” 

In silent sympathy we stroked opposite ends of 
the Persian kitten. 

“ I did n’t care one bit about him,” Dolly 
assumed. 

“Art for art’s sake,” said I, nodding approvingly. 

“ But there was nothing else to do and — ” 

“ Are you busy this afternoon ? ” 

“ I was only sixteen and not very particular. I 
met him at the Wax- Works — ” 

“ Are they so called because they make parents 
angry ? ” 

“ There was a hospital close to, and by an un- 
lucky chance our Vicar induced mamma to visit it. 
Well, we ran into mamma coming out, you see.” 

“ What happened ? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, I said I ’d met him when I was with papa 
at Kissingen. Don’t make another pun, please.” 

“ Did papa play up ? ” 

“ I had n’t time to see him first,” said Dolly, 
sadly. “ Mamma drove down and picked him up 
in the City.” 

“ I detest a suspicious temperament like that,” 
said I. “ What did it come to ? ” 

ii8 


ANCIENT HISTORY 


** No parties, and extra French for weeks,” 
sighed Dolly. Mamma said she wouldn’t have 
minded if only I ’d spoken the truth.” 

“ If she really meant that,” I remarked cau- 
tiously, there was the basis cf an understanding.” 

“ Of course she did n’t. That was just rubbing 
it in, you know.” 

We relapsed into a pensive silence. Dolly gave 
the kitten milk, I pulled its tail. We had become 
quite thoughtful. 

I always tell the truth now, except to the 
Dowager,” said Dolly, presently. 

“It does n’t do to be quixotic,” I agreed. 
“Telling the truth to people who misunderstand 
you is really promoting falsehood, is n’t it ? ” 

“That’s rather a good idea,” said Dolly. 
“And if you — ” 

“ Adapt ? ” 

“Yes — why then they get it just right, don’t 
they ? You think of quite sensible things some- 
times, Mr. Carter.” 

“ Often when I ’m not with you,” said I. 

“And I suppose you adapted in telling me 
about Dulcie Mildmay ? ” 

“ Do you know, I ’ve a sort of idea that I con- 
fused her with somebody else.” 

“ That ’s not very complimentary.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know. I remember the scene so 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

well. It was in a backwater under a tree. There 
was a low bough over the water, and she — 

“ Who ? ” asked Dolly, resuming exclusive 
possession of the kitten. 

‘‘ Well, whoever it was — hung her hat on the 
bough. It was about eight o’clock, a very pleas- 
ant evening. I happen to recollect that the 
cushions were blue. And she wore blue. And I 
was blue, until — Did you say that she refused 
me?” 

“ Mrs. Hilary says she did n’t let it come to 
that.” 

Mrs. Hilary is right as usual. We got home 
at ten and — Your mother couldn’t have meant 
what she said, I think.” 

don’t see how mamma comes in,” said Dolly, 
in a voice muffled by kitten fur. 

‘‘ Because her mother minded considerably, 
although we spoke the truth.” 

“ What did you do that for ? ” asked Dolly, 
reprovingly. 

‘‘ Oh, because other people had seen us from a 
punt. So we just said that time had flown — not, 
perhaps, a particularly tactful thing to say. And 
that’s the whole truth about Dulcie Mildmay.” 

I rose and took my hat again, as if I meant it 
this time too. Dolly rose too, and held out one 
hand to me; the other contained the kitten. 


120 


ANCIENT HISTORY 


What was the hat like ? ” asked Dolly. 

‘‘Just such a hat as you ’d wear yourself/* said I. 

“ I never wear hats like Dulcie Mildmay’s.** 

“ I told you there was a mistake somewhere/* 
I observed triumphantly. 

Dolly smiled; she looked up at me (well, I’m 
taller than she is, of course). 

“Yes, I expect there is/* said she. “But do 
you see any particular good in telling Mrs. Hilary 
so?” 

“ She would n’t believe it.” 

“ No — and — ” 

“ It is, as you observe, so uncomplimentary to 
Mrs. Mildmay.” 

“ And it ’s all such very Ancient History ! ” 

I don’t think anything more of interest oc- 
curred that afternoon — anyhow nothing more 
about Dulcie Mildmay. 


X2I 


CHAPTER XV. 


A FINE DAY. 

‘‘ I SEE nothing whatever to laugh at,” said Mrs. 
Hilary, coldly, when I had finished. 

I did not ask you to laugh,” I observed 
mildly. mentioned it merely as a typical 

case.” 

It ’s not typical,” she said, and took up her 
embroidery. But a moment later she added, — 

Poor boy ! I ’m not surprised ! ” 

“ I ’m not surprised either,” I remarked. “It 
is, however, extremely deplorable.” 

“ It ’s your own fault. Why did you introduce 
him ? ” 

“ A book,” I observed, “ might be written on 
the Injustice of the Just. How could I suppose 
that he would — ? ” 

By the way, I may as well state what he — 
that is, my young cousin George — had done. 
Unless one is a genius, it is best to aim at being 
intelligible. 

Well, he was in love ; and with a view of pro- 
viding him with another house at which he might 


A FINE DAY 


be likely to meet the adored object, I presented 
him to my friend Lady Mickleham. That was on 
a Tuesday. A fortnight later, as I was sitting in 
Hyde Park (as I sometimes do), George came 
up and took the chair next to me. I gave 
him a cigarette, but made no remark. George 
beat his cane restlessly against the leg of his 
trousers. 

“ I Ve got to go up to-morrow,” he remarked. 

Ah, well, Oxford is a delightful town,” said I. 

‘‘ D — d hole,” observed George. 

I was about to contest this opinion when a vic- 
toria drove by. 

A girl sat in it, side by side with a portly 
lady. 

‘‘ George, George ! ” I cried. “ There she is — 
Look ! ” 

George looked, raised his hat with sufficient 
politeness, and remarked to me, — 

‘‘Hang it ! one sees those people everywhere.” 

I am not easily surprised, but I confess I turned 
to George with an expression of wonder. 

“ A fortnight ago — ” I began. 

“ Don’t be an ass, Sam,” said George, rather 
sharply. “She’s not a bad girl, but — ” He 
broke off and began to whistle. 

There was a long pause. I lit a cigar, and 
looked at the people. 

123 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

lunched at the Micklehams’ to-day,” said 
George, drawing a figure on the gravel with his 
cane. Mickleham ’s not a bad fellow.” 

‘‘One of the best fellows alive,” I agreed. 

“ I wonder why she married him, though,” 
mused George ; and he added, with apparent irrel- 
evance, “It’s a dashed bore, going up.” And 
then a smile spread over his face ; a blush accom- 
panied it, and proclaimed George’s sense of deli- 
cious wickedness. I turned on him. 

“ Out with it ! ” said 1. 

“ It ’s nothing. Don’t be a fool,” said George. 

“ Where did you get that rose ? ” I asked. 

“ This rose ? ” he repeated, fondling the blos- 
som. “ It was given to me.” 

Upon this I groaned — and I still consider that 
I had good reason for my action. It was the groan 
of a moralist. 

“They’ve asked me to stay at The Towers 
next vac.,” said George, glancing at me out of the 
corner of an immoral eye. Perhaps he thought it 
too immoral, for he added, “ It ’s all right y Sam.” 
I believe that I have as much self-control as most 
people, but at this point I chuckled. 

“ What the deuce are you laughing at?” asked 
George. 

I made no answer, and he went on, — 

“You never told me what a — what she was 
124 


A FINE DAY 

like, Sam. Wanted to keep it to yourself, you 
old dog.'* 

George — George — George ! " said I. ‘‘You 
go up to-morrow ? ” 

“ Yes, confound it ! ” 

“ And term lasts two months ? ” 

“ Yes — hang it ! " 

“All is well," said I, crossing my legs. “There 
is more virtue in two months than in Ten Com- 
mandments.” 

George regarded me with a dispassionate air. 

“You 're an awful ass sometimes,” he observed 
critically, and he rose from his seat. 

“ Must you go ? ” said I. 

“Yes — got a lot of things to do. Look here, 
Sam, don’t go and talk about — ” 

“ Talk about what ” 

“ Anything, you old idiot,” said George, with a 
pleased smile, and he dug me in the ribs with his 
cane, and departed. 

I sat on, admiring the simple elements which 
constitute the happiness of the young. Alas ! with 
advancing years. Wrong loses half its flavour ! To 
be improper ceases, by itself, to satisfy. 

Immersed in these reflections, I failed to 
notice that a barouche had stopped opposite to 
me ; and suddenly I found a footman addressing 
me. 


125 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Beg your pardon, sir/' he said. Her lady^ 
ship wishes to speak to you.” 

‘‘ It is a blessed thing to be young, Martin,” I 
observed. 

‘‘Yes, sir,” said Martin. “It 's a fine day, sir.” 

“ But very short,” said I. Martin is respectful, 
and said nothing — to me, at least. What he said 
to the coachman, I don't know. 

And then I went up to Dolly. 

“ Get in and drive round,” suggested Dolly. 

“ 1 can't,” said I. “ I have a bad nose.” 

“ What 's the matter with your nose ? ” asked 
Dolly, smiling. 

“ The joint is injured,” said I, getting into the 
barouche. And I added severely, “ I suppose I 'd 
better sit with my back to the horses ? ” 

“ Oh, no, you 're not my husband,” said Dolly, 
“ Sit here ; ” and she made room by her, as she 
continued, “ I rather like Mr. George.” 

“ I 'm ashamed of you,” I observed. “ Con- 
sidering your age — ” 

“ Mr. Carter ! '* 

“ Considering, I say, his age, your conduct is 
scandalous. I shall never introduce any nice boys 
to you again.” 

“Oh, please do,” said Dolly, clasping her hands. 

“ You give them roses,” said I, accusingly, 
“ You make them false to their earliest loves — ” 
126 


A FINE DAY 

“ She was a pudding-faced thing,” observed 
Dolly. 

I frowned. Dolly, by an accident, allowed the 
tip of her finger to touch my arm for an instant. 

“ He ’s a nice boy,” said she. How like he 
is to you, Mr. Carter ! ” 

“ I am a long way past that,” said I. I am 
thirty-six.” 

“ If you mean to be disagreeable ! ” said she, 
turning away. I beg your pardon for touching 
you, Mr. Carter.” 

" I did not notice it. Lady Mickleham.” 

Would you like to get out ? ” 

“It’s miles from my club,” said I, discontentedly. 

“ He ’s such fun,” said Dolly, with a sudden 
smile. “ He told Archie that I was the most 
charming woman in London ! You Ve never 
done that ! ” 

“He said the same about the pudding-faced 
girl,” I observed. 

There was a pause. Then Dolly asked, — 

“ How is your nose ? ” 

“The carriage-exercise is doing it good,” said 1. 

“ If,” observed Dolly, “he is so silly now, what 
will he be at your age ? ” 

“A wise man,” said I. 

“He suggested that I might write to him,” 
bubbled Dolly. 


X27 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Now when Dolly bubbles — an operation which 
includes a sudden turn towards me, a dancing of 
eyes, a dart of a small hand, a hurried rush of 
words, checked and confused by a speedier gust 
of gurgling sound — I am in the habit of ceasing 
to argue the question. Bubbling is not to be met 
by arguing. I could only say, — 

‘‘He ’ll have forgotten by the end of the term.” 

“ He ’ll remember two days later,” retorted 
Dolly. 

“ Stop the carriage,” said I. “ I shall tell Mrs. 
Hilary all about it.” 

“I won’t stop the carriage,” said Dolly. “ I ’m 
going to take you home with me.” 

“1 am at a premium to-day,” I said sardonically. 

“One must have something,” said Dolly. “ How 
is your nose now, Mr. Carter? ” 

I looked at Dolly. I had better not have done 
that. 

“Would afternoon tea hurt it?” she inquired 
anxiously. 

“It would do it good,” said I, decisively. 

And that is absolutely the whole story. And 
what in the world Mrs. Hilary found to disap^ 
prove of I don’t know — especially as I did n’t tell 
her half of it! But she did disapprove. However, 
she looks very well when she disapproves. 


128 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE HOUSE OPPOSITE. 

We were talking over the sad case of young 
Algy Groom ; I was explaining to Mrs. Hilary 
exactly what had happened. 

“ His father gave him,” said I, a hundred 
pounds, to keep him for three months in Paris 
while he learnt French.” 

And very liberal too,” said Mrs. Hilary. 

“ It depends where you dine,” said I. How- 
ever, that question did not arise, for Algy went to 
the Grand Prix the day after he arrived — ” 

A horse race ? ” asked Mrs. Hilary, with great 
contempt. 

‘‘ Certainly the competitors are horses,” I re- 
joined. “ And there he, most unfortunately, lost 
the whole sum, without learning any French to 
speak of.” 

How disgusting ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Hilary, 
and little Miss Phyllis gasped in horror. 

‘‘ Oh, well,” said Hilary, with much bravery (as 
it struck me), his father *s very well off.” 

9 129 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


That does n’t make it a bit better,” declared 
his wife. 

‘‘ There ’s no mortal sin in a little betting, my 
dear. Boys wall be boys — ” 

‘‘And even that,” I interposed, “wouldn’t mat- 
ter if we could only prevent girls from being girls.” 

Mrs. Hilary, taking no notice whatever of me, 
pronounced sentence. “He grossly deceived his 
father,” she said, and took up her embroidery. 

“ Most of us have grossly deceived our parents 
before now,” said I. “We should all have to con- 
fess to something of the sort.” 

“I hope you’re speaking for your own sex,” 
observed Mrs. Hilary. 

“ Not more than yours,” said I. “You used to 
meet Hilary on the pier when your father was n’t 
there — you told me so.” 

“ Father had authorised my acquaintance with 
Hilary.” 

“ I hate quibbles,” said I. 

There was a pause. Mrs. Hilary stitched : 
Hilary observed that the day was fine. 

“ Now,” I pursued carelessly, “ even Miss 
Phyllis here has been known to deceive her 
parents.” 

“ Oh, let the poor child alone, anyhow,” said 
Mrs. Hilary. 

“ Have n’t you ? ” said I to Miss Phyllis. 

130 


THE HOUSE OPPOSITE 


I expected an indignant denial. So did Mrs. 
Hilary, for she remarked with a sympathetic air, — 

“ Never mind his folly, Phyllis dear.” 

“ Have n't you. Miss Phyllis ? ” said I. 

Miss Phyllis grew very red. Fearing that I 
was causing her pain, I was about to observe on 
the prospects of a Dissolution when a shy smile 
spread over Miss Phyllis’s face. 

‘‘ Yes, once,” said she, with a timid glance at 
Mrs. Hilary, who immediately laid down her 
embroidery. 

Out with it,” I cried triumphantly. Come 
along. Miss Phyllis. We won’t tell, honour 
bright!” 

Miss Phyllis looked again at Mrs. Hilary. 
Mrs. Hilary is human. 

Well, Phyllis dear,” said she, ‘‘ after all this 
time I shouldn’t think it my duty — ” 

‘‘ It only happened last summer,” said Miss 
Phyllis. 

Mrs. Hilary looked rather put out. 

Still,” she began. 

We must have the story,” said I. 

Little Miss Phyllis put down the sock she had 
been knitting. 

I was very naughty,” she remarked. “It was 
my last term at school.” 

“ I know that age,” said I to Hilary. 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


My window looked out towards the street. 
You’re sure you won’t tell? Well, there was a 
house opposite — ” 

‘‘ And a young man in it/’ said I. 

‘‘ How did you know that? ” asked Miss Phyl- 
lis, blushing immensely. 

‘‘No girls’ school can keep up its numbers 
without one,” I explained. 

“Well, there was, anyhow,” said Miss Phyllis. 
“ And I and two other girls went to a course of 
lectures at the Town Hall on literature or some- 
thing of that kind. We used to have a shilling 
given us for our tickets.” 

“ Precisely,” said I. “ A hundred pounds ! ” 

“ No, a shilling,” corrected Miss Phyllis. “A 
hundred pounds ! How absurd, Mr. Carter ! 
Well, one day I — I — ” 

“You’re sure you wish to go on, Phyllis?” 
asked Mrs. Hilary. 

“You’re afraid, Mrs. Hilary,” said I, severely. 

“Nonsense, Mr. Carter. I thought Phyllis 
might — ” 

“ I don’t mind going on,” said Miss Phyllis, 
smiling. “ One day I — I lost the other girls.” 

“ The other girls are always easy to lose,” I 
observed. 

“ And on the way there, — oh, you know, he 
went to the lectures.” 


132 


THE HOUSE OPPOSITE 


" The young dog,” said I, nudging Hilary. “ I 
should think he did ! ” 

“On the way there it became rather — rather 

foggy-” 

Blessings on it ! ” I cried ; for little Miss 
Phyllis’s demure but roguish expression delighted 
me. 

‘^And he — he found me in the fog.” 

“What are you doing, Mr. Carter?” cried 
Mrs. Hilary, angrily. 

“ Nothing, nothing,” said I. I believe I had 
winked at Hilary. 

“ And — and we could n’t find the Town Hall.” 
“ Oh, Phyllis !” groaned Mrs. Hilary. 

Little Miss Phyllis looked alarmed for a mo- 
ment. Then she smiled. 

“ But we found the confectioner’s,” said she. 

“ The Grand Prix^'" said I, pointing my fore- 
finger at Hilary. 

“ He had no money at all,” said Miss Phyllis. 

“ It’s ideal ! ” said I. 

“ And — and we had tea on — on — ” 

“ The shilling ? ” I cried in rapture. 

“ Yes,” said little Miss Phyllis, “ on the shilling. 
And he saw me home.” 

“ Details, please,” said I. 

Little Miss Phyllis shook her head. 

“ And left me at the door.” 

133 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Was it still foggy? I asked. 

“Yes. Or he wouldn’t have — ” 

“ Now what did he — ? ” 

“ Come to the door, Mr. Carter,” said Miss 
Phyllis, with obvious wariness. “ Oh, it was such 
fun!” 

“ I ’m sure it was.” 

“No, I mean when we were examined in the 
lectures. I bought the local paper, you know, 
and read it up, and 1 got top marks easily, and 
Miss Green wrote to mother to say how well I 
had done.” 

“It all ends most satisfactorily,” I observed. 

“ Yes, did n’t it ? ” said little Miss Phyllis. 

Mrs. Hilary was grave again. 

“ And you never told your mother, Phyllis ! ” 
she asked. 

“ N-no, Cousin Mary,” said Miss Phyllis. 

I rose and stood with my back to the fire. 
Little Miss Phyllis took up her sock again, but 
a smile still played about the corners of her 
mouth. 

“ I wonder,” said I, looking up at the ceiling, 
“ what happened at the door.” Then, as no one 
spoke, I added, — 

“ Pooh I I know what happened at the door.” 

“ I ’m not going to tell you anything more,” 
said Miss Phyllis. 


134 


THE HOUSE OPPOSITE 


‘‘ But I should like to hear it in your own — ” 

Miss Phyllis was gone ! She had suddenly risen 
and run from the room. 

“ It did happen at the door/* said I. 

‘‘ Fancy Phyllis ! ** mused Mrs. Hilary. 

‘‘ I hope/* said I, that it will be a lesson to 
you.** 

" I shall have to keep my eye on her,** said 
Mrs. Hilary. 

You can*t do it/* said I, in easy confidence. I 
had no fear of little Miss Phyllis being done out 
of her recreations. Meanwhile,** I pursued, 

the important thing is this : my parallel is obvi- 
ous and complete.** 

‘‘ There ’s not the least likeness/* said Mrs. 
Hilary, sharply. 

“As a hundred pounds are to a shilling, so is 
the Grand Prix to the young man opposite,’* I 
observed, taking my hat, and holding out my hand 
to Mrs. Hilary. 

“I am very angry with you/* she said. “You Ve 
made the child think there was nothing wrong in it.** 

“ Oh ! nonsense/* said I. “ Look how she en- 
joyed telling it.** 

Then, not heeding Mrs. Hilary, I launched into 
an apostrophe. 

“O divine House Opposite!** I cried. “Charm- 
ing House Opposite 1 What is a man’s own dull 

135 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


uneventful home compared with that Glorious 
House Opposite ! If only I might dwell for ever 
in the House Opposite ! ” 

“ I have n’t the least notion what you mean/* 
remarked Mrs. Hilary, stiffly. “I suppose it’s 
something silly — or. worse.” 

I looked at her in some puzzle. 

Have you no longing for the House Op- 
posite?” I asked. 

Mrs. Hilary looked at me. Her eyes ceased to 
be absolutely blank. She put her arm through 
Hilary’s and answered gently, 

“ I don’t want the House Opposite.” 

Ah,” said I, giving my hat a brush, but 
maybe you remember the House — when it was 
Opposite ? ” 

Mrs. Hilary, one arm still in Hilary’s gave me 
her hand. 

She blushed and smiled. 

‘‘Well,” said she, “it was your fault: so I 
won’t scold Phyllis.” 

“No, don’t, my dear,” said Hilary, with a laugh. 

As for me, I went downstairs, and, in absence 
of mind, bade my cabman drive to the House 
Opposite. But I have never got there. 


136 


CHAPTER XVIL 


A QUICK CHANGE. 

Why not go with Archie?” I asked, spreading 
out my hands. 

‘‘ It will be dull enough, anyhow,” said Dolly, 
fretfully. ‘‘ Besides, it ’s awfully bourgeois to go 
to the theatre with one’s husband.” 

Bourgeois y' I observed, “ is an epithet which 
the riff-raff apply to what is respectable, and the 
aristocracy to what is decent.” 

‘‘ But it ’s not a nice thing to be, all the same,” 
said Dolly, who is impervious to the most pene- 
trating remark. 

“You’re in no danger of it,” I hastened to 
assure her. 

“How should you describe me, then?” she 
asked, leaning forward, with a smile. 

“ I should describe you. Lady Mickleham,” I 
replied discreetly, “ as being a little lower than the 
angels.” 

Dolly’s smile was almost a laugh as she asked. 

“ How much lower, please, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“Just by the depth of your dimples,” said 1, 
thoughtlessly. 

137 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Dolly became immensely grave. 

I thought/’ said she, “ that we never men- 
tioned them now, Mr. Carter.” 

“ Did we ever ? ” I asked innocently. 

I seemed to remember once : do you recollect 
being in very low spirits one evening at Monte ? ” 

“ I remember being in very low water more than 
one evening there.” 

“Yes: you told me you were terribly hard up.” 

“ There was an election in our division that 
year,” I remarked, “ and I remitted thirty per 
cent of my rents.” 

“You did — to M. Blanc,” said Dolly. “Oh, 
and you were very dreary ! You said you ’d wasted 
your life and your time and your opportunities.” 

“ Oh, you must n’t suppose I never have any 
proper feelings,” said I, complacently. 

“ I think you were hardly yourself.” 

“ Do be more charitable.” 

“ And you said that your only chance was in 
gaining the affection of — ” 

“ Surely I was not such an — so foolish ? ” I 
implored. 

“Yes, you were. You were sitting close by 
me — ” 

“ Oh, then, it does n’t count,” said I, rallying a 
little. 

“ On a bench. You remember the bench ? ” 



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A QUICK CHANGE 

No, I don’t,’' said I, with a kind but firm 
smile. 

“ Not the bench ? ” 

« No.” 

Dolly looked at me, then she asked in an insin- 
uating tone, — 

“ When did you forget it, Mr. Carter ? ” 

The day you were buried,” I rejoined, 
see. Well, you said then what you could n’t 
possibly have meant.” 

‘‘ I dare say. I often did.” 

‘‘ That they were — ” 

“ That what were ? ” 

“ Why, the — the — what we ’re talking about.” 

“ What we were — ? Oh, to be sure, the — the 
blemishes ? ” 

“ Yes, the blemishes. You said they were the 
most — ” 

“ Oh, well, it was a f^on de purler'^ 

I was afraid you were n’t a bit sincere,” said 
Dolly, humbly. 

“ Well, judge me by yourself,” said I, with a 
candid air. 

But I said nothing ! ” cried Dolly. 

‘‘ It was incomparably the most artistic thing to 
do,” said I. 

I ’m sometimes afraid you don’t do me justice, 
Mr. Carter,” remarked Dolly, with some pathos. 

139 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

I did not care to enter upon that discussion, and 
a pause followed. Then Dolly, in a timid manner, 
asked me, — 

“Do you remember the dreadful thing that 
happened the same evening ? ” 

“That chances to remain in my memory,” I 
admitted. 

“ I Ve always thought it kind of you never to 
speak of it,” said she. 

“ It is best forgotten,” said I, smiling. 

“We should have said the same about any- 
body,” protested Dolly. 

“ Certainly. We were only trying to be smart,” 
said I. 

“ And it was horribly unjust.” 

“ I quite agree with you. Lady Mickleham.” 

“ Besides, I did n’t know anything about him 
then. He had only arrived that day, you 
see.” 

“ Really we were not to blame,” I urged. 

“ Oh, but does n’t it seem funny ? ” 

“ A strange whirligig, no doubt,” I mused. 

There was a pause. Then the faintest of smiles 
appeared on Dolly’s face. 

“ He should n’t have worn such clothes,” she 
said, as though in self-defence. “ Anybody would 
have looked absurd in them.” 

“ It was all the clothes,” I agreed. “ Besides, 
140 


A QUICK CHANGE 

when a man does n’t know a place, he always 
moons about and looks — ” 

Yes. Rather awkward, does n’t he, Mr. 
Carter ? ” 

“ And the mere fact of his looking at you — ” 
At us, please.” 

Is nothing, although we made a grievance of 
it at the time.” 

“ That was very absurd of you,” said Dolly. 

“ It was certainly unreasonable of us,” said I. 

We ought to have known he was a gentleman.” 
‘‘ But we scouted the idea of it,” said I. 

“It was a most curious mistake to make,” said 
Dolly. 

“ Oh, well, it ’s all put right now,” said I. 

“ Oh, Mr. Carter, do you remember mamma’s 
face when we described him ? ” 

“ That was a terrible moment,” said I, with a 
shudder. 

“I said he was — ugly,” whispered Dolly. 

“ And I said — something worse,” murmured I. 
“And mamma knew at once from our descrip- 
tion that it was — ” 

“ She saw it in a minute,” said I. 

“ And then you went away.” 

“ Well, I rather suppose I did,” said I. 

“ Mamma is just a little like the Dowager some- 
times,” said Dolly. 

141 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

There is a touch now and then/* I conceded. 

“ And when I was introduced to him the next 
day I absolutely blushed.** 

I don’t altogether wonder at that,” I observed. 

‘‘ But it wasn*t as if he*d heard what we were 
saying.** 

“ No ; but he*d seen what we were doing.** 
Well, what were we doing ? ** cried Dolly, 
defiantly. 

“ Conversing confidentially,** said I. 

“ And a week later you went home ! ** 

Just one week later,** said I. 

There was a long pause. 

“ Well, you *11 take me to the theatre ? ** asked 
Dolly, with something which, if I were so dis- 
posed, I might consider a sigh. 

“ 1 *ve seen the piece twice,** said I. 

“ How tiresome of you ! You *ve seen every- 
thing twice.** 

I *ve seen some things much oftener,** I 
observed. 

“ I *11 get a nice girl for you to talk to, and I *11 
have a young man.** 

‘‘ I don*t want my girl to be too nice^* I 
observed. 

She shall be pretty,** said Dolly, generously. 

“ I don*t mind if I do come with you,** said I. 

What becomes of Archie ?** 


142 


A QUICK CHANGE 

"He’s going to take his mother and sisters to 
the Albert Hall.” 

My face brightened. 

" I am unreasonable,” I admitted. 

" Sometimes you are,” said Dolly. 

" I have much to be thankful for. Have you 
ever observed a small boy eat a penny ice ? ” 

" Of course I have,” said Dolly. 

" What does he do when he’s finished it? ” 

" Stops, I suppose.” 

" On the contrary,” said I, " he licks the glass.” 

" Yes, he does,” said Dolly, meditatively. 

" It’s not so bad, — licking the glass,” said I. 

Dolly stood opposite me, smiling. At this mo- 
ment Archie entered. He had been working at 
his lathe. He is very fond of making things 
which he does n’t want, and then giving them to 
people who have no use for them. 

" How are you, old chap ?” he began. " I ’ve 
just finished an uncommon pretty — ” 

He stopped, paralysed by a cry from Dolly, — 

" Archie, what in the world are you wearing ? ” 

I turned a startled gaze upon Archie. 

" It’s just an old suit I routed out,” said he, 
apologetically. 

I looked at Dolly ; her eyes were close shut, 
and she gasped, — 

" My dear, dear boy, go and change it I ” 

143 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


" I don’t see why it’s not — ” 

Go and change it, if you love me,’' besought 
Dolly. 

« Oh, all right.” 

"You look hideous in it,” she said, her eyes 
still shut. 

Archie, who is very docile, withdrew. A guilty 
silence reigned for some moments. Then Dolly 
opened her eyes. 

" It was the suit,” she said, with a shudder. 
" Oh, how it all came back to me ! ” 

" I could wish,” I observed, taking my hat, 
" that it would all come back to me.” 

" I wonder if you mean that ! ” 

" As much as I ever did,” said I, earnestly. 

" And that is — ? ” 

" Quite enough.” 

" How tiresome you are ! ” she said, turning 
away with a smile. 

Outside I met Archie in another suit. 

" A quick change, eh, my boy ? ” said he. 

" It took just a week,” I remarked absently. 

Archie stared. 


*44 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


A SLIGHT MISTAKE. 

“ I don’t ask you for more than a guinea,” said 
Mrs. Hilary, with a parade of forbearance. 

“It would be the same,” I replied politely, “ if 
you asked me for a thousand ; ” with which I 
handed her half-a-crown. She held it in her open 
hand, regarding it scornfully. 

“ Yes,” I continued, taking a seat, “ I feel that 
pecuniary gifts — ” 

“ Half-a-crown ! ” 

“Are a poor substitute for personal service. 
May not I accompany you to the ceremony ? ” 

“ I dare say you spent as much as this on wine 
with your lunch ! ” 

“ I was in a mad mood to-day,” I answered 
apologetically. “ What are they taught at the 
school ? ” 

“ Above all, to be good girls,” said Mrs. Hilary, 
earnestly. “ What are you sneering at, Mr. 
Carter?” 

145 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


" Nothing,” said I, hastily, and I added with a 
sigh, I suppose it ’s all right.” 

‘‘ I should like,” said Mrs. Hilary, meditatively, 
‘‘ if I had not other duties, to dedicate my life to 
the service of girls.” 

“ I should think twice about that, if I were you,” 
said I, shaking my head. 

By the way, Mr. Carter, I don’t know if I Ve 
ever spoken unkindly of Lady Mickleham. I 
hope not.” 

Hope,” said I, ‘‘ is not yet taxed.” 

“ If I have, I *m very sorry. She ’s been most 
kind in undertaking to give away the prizes to-day. 
There must be some good in her.” 

‘‘ Oh, don’t be hasty ! ” I implored. 

“ I always wanted to think well of her.” 

“Ah ! Now I never did.” 

“ And Lord Mickleham is coming, too. He ’ll 
be most useful.” 

“ That settles it,” I exclaimed. “ I may not be 
an earl, but I have a perfect right to be useful. 
I ’ll go too.” 

“ I wonder if you ’ll behave properly,” said 
Mrs. Hilary, doubtfully. 

I held out a half-sovereign, three half-crowns, 
and a shilling. 

“ Oh, well, you may come, since Hilary can’t,” 
said Mrs. Hilary. 


146 


A SLIGHT MISTAKE 

"You mean he won't,** I observed. 

"He has always been prevented hitherto,*’ said 
she, with dignity. 

So I went, and it proved a most agreeable expe- 
dition. There were two hundred girls in blue 
frocks and white aprons (the girl three from the 
end of the fifth row was decidedly pretty) — a nice 
lot of prize books — the Micklehams (Dolly in de- 
mure black), ourselves, and the matron. All went 
well. Dolly gave away the prizes ; Mrs. Hilary 
and Archie made little speeches. Then the matron 
came to me. I was sitting modestly at the back 
of the platform, a little distance behind the others. 

" Mr. Musgrave,** said the matron to me, 
"we’re so glad to see you here at last. Won’t 
you say a few words ? ” 

"It would be a privilege,” I responded cordially, 
"but unhappily I have a sore throat.” 

The matron (who was a most respectable 
woman) said, " Dear, dear ! ” but did not press the 
point. Evidently, however, she liked me, for 
when we went to have a cup of tea, she got me in 
a corner and began to tell me all about the work. 
It was extremely interesting. Then the matron 
observed, — 

" And what an angel Mrs. Musgrave is ! ” 

"Well, I should hardly call her that,” said h 
with a smile. 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Oh, you must n’t depreciate her, — you, of all 
men ! ” cried the matron, with a somewhat pon- 
derous archness. ‘‘ Really I envy you her constant 
society.” 

“ I assure you,” said I, ‘‘ I see very little of 
her.” 

‘‘ I beg your pardon ? ” 

I only go to the house about once a fortnight 
— Oh, it’s not my fault. She won’t have me 
there oftener.” 

What do you mean ? I beg your pardon. 
Perhaps I’ve touched on a painful — ?” 

‘‘ Not at all, not at all,” said I, suavely. It is 
very natural. I am neither young nor handsome, 
Mrs. Wiggins. I am not complaining.” 

The matron gazed at me. 

“ Only seeing her here,” I pursued, ^Wou have 
no idea of what she is at home. She has chosen 
to forbid me to come to her house — ” 

‘‘ Her house ? ” 

“ It happens to be more hers than mine,” I 
explained. “To forbid me, I say, more than once 
to come to her house. No doubt she had her 
reasons.” 

“ Nothing could justify it,” said the matron, 
directing a wondering glance at Mrs. Hilary. 

“ Do not let us blame her,” said I. “It is just 
an unfortunate accident. She is not as fond of me 

148 


A SLIGHT MISTAKE 


as I could wish, Mrs. Wiggins ; and she is a great 
deal fonder than I could wish of — 

I broke off. Mrs. Hilary was walking towards 
us. I think she was pleased to see me getting on 
so well with the matron, for she was smiling pleas- 
antly. The matron wore a bewildered expression. 

I suppose,” said Mrs. Hilary, that you 41 
drive back with the Micklehams ? ” 

‘‘ Unless you want me,” said I, keeping a watch- 
ful eye on the matron. 

Oh, I don't want you,” said Mrs. Hilary, 
lightly. 

‘‘You won’t be alone this evening ? ” I asked 
anxiously. 

Mrs. Hilary stared a little. 

“ Oh, no ! ” she said. “We shall have our 
usual party.” 

“May I come one day next week ? ” I asked 
humbly. 

Mrs. Hilary thought for a moment. 

“ I ’m so busy next week ; come the week 
after,” said she, giving me her hand. 

“ That ’s very unkind,” said I. 

“ Nonsense ! ” said Mrs. Hilary, and she 
added, “ Mind you let me know when you ’re 
coming.” 

“ I won’t surprise you,” I assured her, with a 
covert glance at the matron. 

149 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


The excellent woman was quite red in the face, 
and could gasp out nothing but Good-by,” as 
Mrs. Hilary affectionately pressed her hand. 

At this moment Dolly came up. She was alone. 

“ Where ’s Archie ? ” I asked. 

“He*s run away; he’s got to meet somebody. 
I knew you ’d see me home. Mrs. Hilary didn’t 
want you, of course ?” 

Of course not,” said I, plaintively. 

Besides, you ’d rather come with me, would n’t 
you ? ” pursued Dolly, and she added pleasantly 
to the matron, “ Mrs. Hilary ’s so down on him, 
you know.” 

“ I ’d much rather come with you,” said I. 

'‘We’ll have a cosy drive all to ourselves,” said 
Dolly, “ without husbands or wives or anything 
horrid. Is n’t it nice to get rid of one’s husband 
sometimes, Mrs. Wiggins ? ” 

" I have the misfortune to be a widow. Lady 
Mickleham,” said Mrs. Wiggins. 

Dolly’s eye rested upon her with an interested 
expression. I knew that she was about to ask 
Mrs. Wiggins whether she liked the condition of 
life, and I interposed hastily, with a sigh, — 

“ But you can look back on a happy marriage, 
Mrs. Wiggins?” 

" I did my best to make it so,” said she, 
stiffly. 

?5o 


A SLIGHT MISTAKE 


You ’re right/’ said I. ‘'Even in the face of 
unkindness we should strive — ” . 

“ My husband ’s not unkind,” said Dolly. 

“ I did n’t mean your husband,” said I. 

“ What your poor wife would do if she cared a 
button for you, I don’t know,” observed Dolly. 

“ If I had a wife who cared for me, I should be 
a better man,” said I, solemnly. 

“ But you ’d probably be very dull,” said Dolly. 
“ And you would n’t be allowed to drive with me.” 

“Perhaps it’s all for the best,” said I, brighten- 
ing up. “ Good-hy, Mrs. Wiggins.” 

Dolly walked on. Mrs. Wiggins held my hand 
for a moment. 

“ Young man,” said she, sternly, “ are you sure 
it ’s not your own fault ? ” 

“ I ’m not at all sure, Mrs. Wiggins,” said I 
“ But don’t be distressed about it. It ’s of no 
consequence. I don’t let it make me unhappy. 
Good-by ; so many thanks. Charming girls you 
have here — especially that one in the fifth — I 
mean, charming, all of them. Good-by.” 

I hastened to the carriage. Mrs. Wiggins stood 
and watched. I got in and sat down by Dolly. 

“ Oh, Mrs. Wiggins,” said Dolly, dimpling, 
“don’t tell Mrs. Hilary that Archie wasn’t with 
us, or we shall get into trouble.” And she added 
to me, “ Are you all right ? ” 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Rather ! ” said I, appreciatively ; and we drove 
off, leaving Mrs. Wiggins on the door-step. 

A fortnight later I went to call on Mrs. Hilary. 
After some conversation she remarked, — 

“ I ’m going to the school again to-morrow.'* 

“ Really ! " said I. 

And I 'm so delighted — I Ve persuaded 
Hilary to come." 

She paused, and then added, — 

‘‘You really seemed interested last time.” 

“ Oh, I was." 

“Would you like to come again to-morrow ? " 
“No, I think not, thanks," said I, carelessly. 

“ That 's just like you ! " she said severely. 
“ You never do any real good, because you 
never stick to anything." 

“ There are some things one can’t stick to,” 
said I. 

“ Oh, nonsense ! " said Mrs. Hilary. 

But there are — and I did n’t go. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


THE OTHER LADY. 

By the merest chance/’ I observed meditatively, 
attended a reception last night.” 

“ I went to three,” said Lady Mickleham, 
selecting a sardine-sandwich with care. 

might not have gone,” I mused. I might 
easily not have gone.” 

“ I can’t see what difference it would make if 
you had n’t,” said she. 

‘‘ I thought three times about going. It ’s a 
curious world.” 

‘‘ What happened ? You may smoke, you 
know.” 

I fell in love,” said I, lighting a cigarette. 

Lady Mickleham placed her feet on the fender 
— it was a chilly afternoon — and turned her face 
to me, shielding it from the fire with her hand- 
kerchief. 

Men of your age,” she remarked, have no 
business to be thinking of such things.” 

153 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ I was not thinking of it,” said I. “ I was 
thinking of going home. Then I was introduced 
to her,” 

‘‘ And you stayed a little, I suppose ? ” 

“ I stayed two hours — or two minutes ; I for- 
get which ; ” and I added, nodding my head at 
Lady Mickleham, There was something irresisti- 
ble about me last night.” 

Lady Mickleham laughed. 

“ You seem very pleased with yourself,” she 
said, reaching for a fan to replace the handker- 
chief. 

“Yes, take care of your complexion,” said I, 
approvingly. “ She has a lovely complexion.” 
Lady Mickleham laid down the fan. 

“ I am very pleased with myself,” I continued. 
“ She was delighted with me.” 

“ I suppose you talked nonsense to her.” 

“ I have not the least idea what I talked to her. 

It was quite immaterial. The language of the 
>) 

eyes — 

“ Oh, you might be a boy ! ” 

“ I was,” said I, nodding again. 

There was a long silence. Dolly looked at me ; 
I looked at the fire. I did not, however, see the 
fire. I saw something quite different. 

“ She liked me very much,” I observed, stretch- 
ing my hands out towards the blaze. 

154 


THE OTHER LADY 


" You absurd old man ! ” said Dolly. ‘‘ Was 
she very charming ? ” 

“She was perfect.” 

“How? Clever?” 

I waved my hand impatiently. 

“ Pretty, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“ Why, of course ; the prettiest creature I ever 
— But that goes without saying.” 

“It would have gone better without saying,” 
remarked Dolly. “Considering — ” 

To have asked “ Considering what ? ” would 
have been the acme of bad taste. I merely smiled, 
and waved my hand again. 

“ You 're quite serious about it, are n't you ? ” 
said Dolly. 

“ I should think I was,” said I, indignantly. 
“Not to be serious in such a matter is to waste 
it utterly.” 

“ I 'll come to the wedding,” said Dolly. 

“ There won't be a wedding,” said I. “ There 
are Reasons.” 

“ Oh ! You're very unlucky, Mr. Carter.” 

“ That,” I observed, “ is as it may be. Lady 
Mickleham.” 

“ Were the Reasons at the reception ?” 

“They were. It made no difference.” 

“It's very curious,” remarked Dolly, with 
a compassionate air, “that you always manage 

155 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


to admire people whom somebody else has 
married/* 

‘‘It would be very curious/* I rejoined, “if 
somebody had not married the people whom I 
admire. Last night, though, I made nothing of 
his sudden removal : my fancy rioted in accidental 
deaths for him.** 

“He won*t die,** said Dolly. 

“ I hate that sort of superstition,** said I, irritably. 
“ He *s just as likely to die as any other man is.** 

“ He certainly won*t die,** said Dolly. 

“Well, I know he won*t. Do let it alone,** 
said I, much exasperated. It was probably only 
kindness, but Dolly suddenly turned her eyes 
away from me and fixed them on the fire ; she took 
the fan up again and twirled it in her hand; a 
queer little smile bent her lips. 

“ I hope the poor man won’t die/* said Dolly, 
in a low voice. 

“ If he had died last night ! ** I cried longingly. 
Then, with a regretful shrug of my shoulders, I 
added, “ Let him live now to the crack of doom !** 

Somehow this restored my good humour. I rose 
and stood with my back to the fire, stretching my- 
self and sighing luxuriously. Dolly leant back in 
her chair and laughed at me. 

“ Do you expect to be forgiven ? ** she asked. 

“ No, no,** said I ; “ I had too good an excuse.** 


THE OTHER LADY 


I wish I *d been there — at the reception, I 
mean.” 

1 *m extremely glad you were n’t. Lady 
Mickleham. As it was, I forgot all my troubles.” 

Dolly is not resentful ; she did not mind the 
implied description. She leant back, smiling still. 
I sighed again, smiled at Dolly, and took my hat. 
Then I turned to the mirror over the mantelpiece, 
arranged my necktie, and gave my hair a touch. 

‘‘No one,” 1 observed, “can afford to neglect 
the niceties of the toilet. Those dainty little curls 
on the forehead — ” 

“You’ve had none there for ten years,” cried 
Lady Mickleham. 

“ I did not mean my forehead,” said I. 

Sighing once again, I held out my hand to 
Dolly. 

“ Are you doing anything this evening ? ” she 
asked. 

“ That depends on what I ’m asked to do,” said 
I, cautiously. 

“Well, Archie’s going to be at the House, and 
I thought you might take me to the Phaetons’ 
party. It’s quite a long drive — a horribly long 
drive, Mr. Carter.” 

I stood for a moment considering this proposal. 

“I don’t think,” said I, “that it would be 
proper.” 


*57 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“Why, Archie suggested it! You’re making 
an excuse. You know you are 1 ” and Lady 
Mickleham looked very indignant. “ As if,” she 
added scornfully, “ you cared about what was 
proper 1 ” 

I dropped into a chair, and said in a confidential 
tone, “ I don’t care a pin. It was a mere excuse. 
I don’t want to come.” 

“ You ’re very rude, indeed. Many women 
would never speak to you again.” 

“ They would, ” said I, “ all do just as you 
will.” 

“ And what ’s that, Mr. Carter? ” 

“ Ask me again on the first opportunity.” 

“ Why won’t you come ? ” said Dolly, waiving 
this question. 

I bent forward, holding my hat in my left hand, 
and sawing the air with my right forefinger. 

“ You fail to allow,” said I, impressively, “ for 
the rejuvenescence which recent events have pro- 
duced in me. If I came with you this evening I 
should be quite capable — ” I paused. 

“ Of anything dreadful ? ” asked Dolly. 

“ Of paying you pronounced attentions,” said I, 
gravely. 

“That,” said Dolly, with equal gravity, “would 
be very regrettable. It would be unjust to me — 
and very insulting to her, Mr. Carter.” 

158 


THE OTHER LADY 

“It would be the finest testimonial to her,” 1 
cried. 

“ And you 'll spend the evening thinking of 
her ? ” asked Dolly. 

“ I shall get through the evening,” said I, “ in 
the best way I can.” And I smiled contentedly. 

“ What 's her husband? ” asked Dolly, suddenly. 

“ Her husband,” I rejoined, “ is nothing at all.” 

Dolly, receiving this answer, looked at me with 
a pathetic air. 

“ It 's not quite fair,” she observed. “ Do you 
know what I 'm thinking about, Mr. Carter ? ” 

“ Certainly I do, Lady Mickleham. You are 
thinking that you would like to meet me for the 
first time.” 

“ Not at all. I was thinking that it would be 
amusing if you met me for the first time.” 

I said nothing. Dolly rose and walked to the 
window. She swung the tassel of the blind and it 
bumped against the window. The failing sun 
caught her ruddy brown hair. There were curls 
on her forehead, too. 

“It's a grand world,” said I. “ And, after all, 
one can grow old very gradually.” 

“ You 're not really old,” said Dolly, with the 
fleetest glance at me. A glance should not be 
over-long. 

“ Gradually and disgracefully,” I murmured. 

159 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ If you met me for the first time — ” said 
Dolly, swinging the tassel. 

“ By Heaven, it should be the last ! ** I cried, 
and I rose to my feet. 

Dolly let the tassel go, and made me a very 
pretty curtsey. 

I am going to another party to-night,’* said I, 
nodding my head significantly. 

“ Ah ! ” said Dolly. 

And I shall again,” I pursued, “ spend my 
time with the prettiest woman in the room.” 

“ Shall you ? ” asked Dolly, smiling. 

“I am a very fortunate fellow,” I observed. 

And as for Mrs. Hilary, she may say what she 
likes.” 

‘‘Oh, does Mrs. Hilary know the — Other 
Lady?” 

I walked towards the door. 

“ There is,” said I, laying my hand on the door, 
“ no Other Lady.” 

“ I shall get there about eleven,” said Dolly. 


i6o 


CHAPTER XX. 


A LIFE SUBSCRIPTION, 

I NEVER quite know/’ said Mrs. Hilary, taking 
up her embroidery, “what you mean when you 
talk about love.” 

“No more do I,” I admitted, stroking the cat. 

“If you mean that you dedicate to a woman 
your whole life — ” 

“ And more than half your income.” 

Mrs. Hilary laid down the embroidery, and 
observed, as though she were concluding the 
discussion, — 

“ The fact is, you don’t know what real love is.” 

“ I never met anyone who did,” said I. 

Mrs. Hilary opened her mouth. 

“ At least they could never tell me what it was,” 
I added hastily. 

Mrs. Hilary resumed the embroidery. 

“ Now the other day,” I continued, “ my friend 
Major Camperton married his cook.” 

“What for?” cried Mrs. Hilary. 

“ Because his wife was dead,” said I, 

i6i 


II 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


" That not a reason.” 

“You must admit that it’s an excuse,” I 
pleaded. 

Mrs. Hilary, taking no notice of my apology, 
made a thoughtful stitch or two. Then she 
observed, — 

“ I was never in love with any man except 
Hilary.” 

“ You 're always boasting of that : I suppose it 
was difficult ? ” 

“But once I was awfully — but if I tell you, 
you 'll talk about it.” 

“ Upon my honour I won’t.” 

“You will — to Lady Mickleham.” 

“ Lady Mickleham takes no interest in you,” 
said I. 

“ Well, once I was awfully tempted. It was 
before I knew Hilary.” 

“ But after you knew me ? ” I suggested. 

“ Don't be absurd,” said Mrs. Hilary. “ He 
was very rich — rather handsome too.” 

“ I have always persisted in maintaining that 
you were human,” I observed complacently. 

“ I think,” said she, gazing at me, “ that you 
are the most earthly man I ever knew.” 

“Go on with the story,” said I, taking the cat 
on my knee. 

“ And he was really very fond of me.” 

163 


A LIFE SUBSCRIPTION 


Oh, so he said/* 

“ But — well, I might have, if he had n’t/* 

Oh, I understand ; at least I hope so/* 

“ I mean he would n*t talk about anything else/* 
“ I suppose he saw nothing else in you.** 

That was what I felt. Good looks are n*t 
everything.** 

‘‘Were you good-looking ? ** I inquired. 

Mrs. Hilary showed signs of being about to 
take up her embroidery. 

“ All right : Hilary is n*t here,** said I, in 
excuse. 

“ I hated it. I wanted to be — ** She paused. 
“ What *s in a word? Say ‘ esteemed.* ** 

“Yes — for something more than that.** 

“ So you would n*t have anything to say to him ? ** 
“No. I was so glad — afterwards.** 

“ And what *s become of him ? ** 

“ Oh, he*s married.** 

“ It *s a just world. Now lots of those immoral 
writers would have rewarded him with perpetual 
bachelorhood.** 

Mrs. Hilary pushed her embroidery quite far 
off, and leant forward towards me. 

“ Are n*t you ever going to marry ? ** she asked. 
“ Marriages are made in heaven,** said I. Mrs. 
Hilary nodded approvingly. “ I thought of wait- 
ing till I got there,** I added. 

163 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


‘‘ Oh/* said Mrs. Hilary. And she added, ‘‘ I 
know a really charming girl.’* 

‘‘ You cruel woman ! Would you doom her to 
me r 

“ You *d be all right/* said Mrs. Hilary, “if you 
could be removed from — ** 

“ Certain influences,** I suggested hastily. “ But 
for Hilary you also would be a pleasant woman.** 

“ There *s not the least comparison/* said she, 
with a flush. 

“ There *s always a comparison/* I observed. 
“ What are we talking about ? ** 

Now Mrs. Hilary could not, as I well knew, 
answer this question. 

“ Well, I *m very sorry about it,” she said. 

“A romance/* said I, “ is a thing to be cherished.” 

“ I can ’t think it *s right,” said Mrs. Hilary. 

“To remember — to be proud of.” 

“ I don’t want to be hard about it,” murmured 
Mrs. Hilary. 

“To be taken — ” 

“Seriously? Yes, of course, or it’s worse 
than — ** 

“To be taken,” said I, “between meals.” 

Mrs. Hilary leapt to her feet. 

“ Or else you know,” I added, it would spoil 
dinner.” 

Mrs. Hilary was very angry ; but she was also 

164 


A LIFE SUBSCRIPTION 


a little curious. The latter emotion was more 
powerful. 

‘‘ I wonder,” said she, “ what you do really feel 
about — ” 

“ What?” 

‘‘ It,” said Mrs. Hilary. 

“ Am I in the confessional ? ” 

To my delight a smile lurked round Mrs. 
Hilary's lips. 

“ You think,” she said, that I don't under- 
stand it. Well, I do a little. She 's been here.” 

“ Has she, though ? What was she doing 
here?” 

‘‘ Oh, coaxing,” said Mrs. Hilary. “ She wanted 
a subscription from Hilary.” 

I was much interested. 

“Were you present at the interview?” I asked. 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Hilary. “ She got the sub- 
scription, Mr. Carter, — a larger one than Hilary 
could afford.” 

“ I have given her a larger one than I could 
afford.” 

The rare smile still twitched round Mrs. 
Hilary's mouth. 

“ What do you think Hilary did when she 'd 
gone ? ” she asked. 

“ I should think he felt a fool,” said I. 

‘‘ He apologised,” said Mrs. Hilary. 

165 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


I laughed. Mrs. Hilary laughed reluctantly. 

Guileless creature ! ” I observed. 

“ Oh, you need n’t do that ! ” she said, with a 
slight flush. Shall I tell you what he did after- 
wards ? ” 

‘‘ Lord, I know that well enough ! ” 

“ I ’m sure you don’t.” 

“ Gave you a new bonnet, of course.” 

I believe that Mrs. Hilary was annoyed ; for 
she said quite sulkily, — 

“It was a bracelet.” 

“ I told you so,” I observed. 

“ He’d have given it me anyhow,” she cried. 

“ Not he ! ” said I. 

“ He ’d meant to, before,” said she. “ He said 
so.” 

I smiled ; but I did not wish to make mischief, 
so I added, “ The subscription was, of course, 
civility.” 

“ That ’s all, of course. Still it is funny, is n’t 
it?” 

“ Perhaps it is rather.” 

There was a pause. 

“Do you care to meet that girl ? ” asked Mrs. 
Hilary. 

“ N-no,” said I. 

“ I would give you one more chance/* she said 
generously. 


x66 


A LIFE SUBSCRIPTION 


‘‘ Thank you. I ’m still subscribing/’ I an- 
swered. ‘‘No bracelets for me.” 

“We laughed about it when she was gone. 
Hilary was amused at himself.” 

“ I have experienced the feeling/’ I observed. 

“ I wonder if I ought to tell you what he called 
her?” 

“ Probably not. Go on.” 

“He said she was an insinuating little — ” 

“ Why do you hesitate, Mrs. Hilary ? ” 

“ Devil^* said Mrs. Hilary, almost under her 
breath. 

“ Ah ! ” said I, setting the cat down, and reach- 
ing for my hat. 

“Yes, devil,” said Mrs. Hilary, more coura- 
geously. 

“ And what did he say you were ? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, nothing,” said Mrs. Hilary, blushing. 

“Then you and Hilary are friends again ?” 

“ I did n’t mind in the least,” declared Mrs. 
Hilary. “ Only it ’s curious — ” 

I began to laugh. I enjoy a chance of laughing 
at Mrs. Hilary. 

“We are all much indebted to her,” said I; 
“some for a bracelet — ” 

“Nonsense!” 

“ Some for a momentar^^ emotion — ” 

“ He did n’t feel even that.” 

167 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

Some for a life-long — Dear me, how late it 
grows ! 1 must be off/* And I held out my 

hand. As I did so, Hilary entered. 

“ By the way. Carter,** said he, when he saw me, 
“ what *s that society Lady Mickleham collects for? 
She got something out of me. I hope it *s not a 
fraud.** 

“ 1 hope not,** said 1. 

‘‘ Because I *ve given her a trifle.” 

“ So have I,** 1 remarked. 

A donation, you know.** 

Oh, mine *s a life subscription,** said I. 

“ Oh, go away,** said Mrs. Hilary, impatiently. 

“ Well, you *ve got nothing else to do with your 
money,’* said Hilary. “ You *ve not got a wife 
and family.** 

That is, of course,** said I, the explanation.” 

Then Mrs. Hilary drove me out. She *d have 
done it sooner only that in her heart she credits 
me with a tragedy. 


i68 


CHAPTER XXI. 


WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 

Unfortunately it was Sunday; therefore the 
gardeners could not be ordered to shift the long 
row of flower-pots from the side of the terrace next 
the house, where Dolly had ordered them to be 
put, to the side remote from the house, where 
Dolly now wished them to stand. Yet Dolly 
could not think of living with the pots where they 
were till Monday. It would kill her, she said. 
So Archie left the cool shade of the great trees, 
where Dolly sat doing nothing, and Nellie Phaeton 
sat splicing the gig whip, and I lay in a deck-chair, 
with something iced beside me. Outside, the sun 
was broiling hot, and poor Archie mopped his 
brow at every weary journey across the broad 
terrace. 

“ It 's a burnin’ shame, Dolly,’’ said Miss 
Phaeton. “ I would n’t do it if I were him.” 

“ Oh, yes, you would, dear,” said Dolly. The 
pots looked atrocious on that side.” 

169 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


I took a long sip from my glass, and observed 
in a meditative tone, — 

“ There, but for the grace of woman, goes 
Samuel Travers Carter.” 

Dolly’s lazy lids half lifted. Miss Phaeton 
mumbled (her mouth was full of twine), — 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

Nemo omnibus horis sapity' said I, apologetically. 

I don’t know what that means either.” 

Nemo — everybody,” I translated, sapit — 
has been in love - — omnibus — once — horis — at 
least.” 

Oh, and you mean she would n’t have you ? ’’ 
asked Nellie, with blunt directness. 

Not quite that,” said I. They — ” 

‘‘ They ? ” murmured Dolly, with half-lifted lids. 

"Theyy' I pursued, “ regretfully recognised my 
impossibility. Hence I am not carrying pots 
across a broad terrace under a hot sun.” 

“ Why did they think you impossible? ” asked 
Miss Phaeton, who takes much interest in this 
sort of question. 

A variety of reasons : for one I was too clever, 
for another too stupid ; for others too good — or 
too bad ; too serious — or too frivolous ; too poor 
or — ” 

Well, no one objected to your money, I sup- 
pose? ” interrupted Nellie. 

170 


WHAT MIGHT . HAVE BEEN 

“ Pardon me. I was about to say ‘ or not rich 
enough.* ’* 

But that *s the same thing.** 

“ The antithesis is certainly imperfect,** I 
admitted. 

Mr. Gay,** said Nellie, introducing the name 
with some timidity, “you know who I mean.? — 
the poet — once said to me that man was essentially 
imperfect until he was married.** 

“It is true,** I agreed. “And woman until she 
is dead.** 

“ I don*t think he meant it quite in that sense,** 
said Nellie, rather puzzled. 

“ I don*t think he meant it in any sense,** mur- 
mured Dolly, a little unkindly. 

We might have gone on talking in this idle 
way for ever so long had not Archie at this point 
dropped a large flower-pot and smashed it to bits. 
He stood looking at the bits for a moment, and 
then came towards us and sank into a chair. 

“ I *m off! ** he announced. 

“ And half are on one side, and half on the 
other,** said Dolly, regretfully. 

A sudden impulse seized me. I got up, put on 
my straw hat, took off my coat, walked out into 
the sun, and began to move flower-pots across the 
broad terrace. I heard a laugh from Archie, a 
little cry from Dolly, and from Nellie Phaeton, 
171 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ Goodness ! what *s he doin’ that for ? ” I was 
not turned from my purpose. The luncheon bell 
rang. Miss Phaeton, whip and twine in hand, 
walked into the house. Archie followed her, 
saying as he passed that he hoped I should n’t find 
it warm. I went on shifting the flower-pots. 
They were very heavy. I broke two, but I went 
on. Presently Dolly put up her parasol and came 
out from the shade to watch me. She stood there 
for a moment or two. Then she said, — 

“Well, do you think you’d like it, Mr. 
Carter?” 

“ Wait till I ’ve finished,” said I, waving my 
hand. 

Another ten minutes saw the end of my task. 
Panting and hot, I sought the shade, and flung 
myself on to my deck-chair again. I also lit a 
cigarette. 

“I think they looked better on the other side, 
after all,” said Dolly, meditatively. 

“ Of course you do,” said I, urbanely. “ You 
needn’t tell me that.” 

“ Perhaps you ’d like to move them back,” she 
suggested. 

“No,” said I. “I’ve done enough to create 
the impression.” 

“ And how did you like it? ” 

“ It was,” said I, “ in its way a pleasant enough 
172 


WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN 

illusion.” And I shrugged my shoulders, and 
blew a ring of smoke. 

To my very considerable gratification, Dolly’s 
tone manifested some annoyance as she asked, — 

“ Why do you say ‘ in its way ’ ? ” 

Because, in spite of the momentary pleasure I 
gained from feeling myself a married man, I could 
not banish the idea that we should not permanently 
suit one another.” 

‘‘ Oh, you thought that ? ” said Dolly, smiling 
again. 

“ I must confess it,” said I. ‘‘The fault, I 
know, would be mine.” 

“ I ’m sure of that,” said Dolly. 

“ But the fact is that I can ’t exist in too high 
altitudes. The rarefaction of the moral atmos- 
phere — ” 

“ Please don’t use all those long words.” 

“Well, then, to put it plainly,” said I, with a 
pleasant smile, “I felt all the time that Mrs. 
Hilary would be too good for me.” 

It is not very often that it falls to my humble 
lot to startle Lady Mickleham out of her com- 
posure. But at this point she sat up quite straight 
in her chair; her cheeks flushed, and her eyelids 
ceased to droop in indolent insouciance, 

“ Mrs. Hilary ! ’’she said. “ What has Mrs. 
Hilary—?” 


173 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


I really thought you understood,” said I, 

the object of my experiment.” 

Dolly glanced at me. I believe that my ex- 
pression was absolutely innocent — and I am, of 
course, sure that hers expressed mere surprise. 

I thought,” she said, after a pause, that you 
were thinking of Nellie Phaeton.” 

‘‘Oh, I see,” cried I, smiling. “ A natural 
mistake, to be sure ! ” 

“ She thought so too,’’ pursued Dolly, biting 
her lip. 

“ Did she, though ? ” 

“And I’m sure she’d be quite annoyed if she 
thought you were thinking of Mrs. Hilary.” 

“As a matter of fact,” I observed, “ she didn’t 
understand what I was doing at all.” 

Dolly leant back. The relics of a frown still 
dwelt on her brow ; presently, however, she began 
to swing her hat on her forefinger, and she threw 
a look at me. I immediately looked up towards 
the branches above my head. 

“We might as well go in to lunch,” said 
Dolly. 

“ By all means,” I acquiesced, with alacrity. 

We went out into the sunshine, and came where 
the pots were. Suddenly Dolly said, — ■ 

“ Go back and sit down again, Mr. Carter.” 

“ I want my lunch,” I ventured to observe. 

174 


WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN 


“ Do as I tell you/* said Dolly, stamping her 
foot ; whereat, much intimidated, I went back, and 
stretched myself once more on the deck-chair. 

Dolly approached a flower-pot. She stooped 
down, exerted her strength, lifted it, and carried it, 
not without effort, across the terrace. Again she 
did the like. 1 sat smoking and watching. She 
lifted a third pot, but dropped it halfway. Then, 
dusting her hands against one another, she came 
back slowly into the shade and sat down. I made 
no remark. Dolly glanced at me. 

‘‘ Well ? ** she said. 

‘‘Woman — woman — woman!** said I, sadly. 

“ Must I carry some more ? ** asked Dolly, in a 
humble yet protesting tone. 

“ Mrs. Hilary,** I began, “ is an exceedingly 
attractive — ** 

Dolly rose with a sigh. 

“ Where are you going ? ** I asked. 

“ More pots,** said Dolly, standing opposite me. 
“ I must go on, you see.** 

“ Till when. Lady Mickleham ? ** 

“ Till you tell the truth,** said Dolly, and she 
suddenly burst into a little laugh. 

“Woman — woman — woman I ** said I again. 
“ Let *s go in to lunch.** 

“ I *m going to carry the pots,** said Dolly. 
“It*s awfully hot, Mr. Carter — and look at my 
poor hands!** ^75 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


She held them out to me. 

“ Lunch ! said 1. 

“ Pots ! said Dolly, with infinite firmness. 

The window of the dining-room opened and 
Archie put his head out. 

“Come along, you two,’* he called. “Every- 
thing ’s getting cold.” 

Dolly turned an appealing glance on me. 

“ How obstinate you are ! ” she said. “ You 
know perfectly well — ” 

I began to walk towards the house. 

“ I *m going in to lunch,” said I. 

“ Ask them to keep some for me,” said Dolly, 
and she turned up the sleeves of her gown till her 
wrists were free. 

“ It’s most unfair,” said I, indignantly. 

“ I don’t care if it is,” said Dolly, stooping 
down to lift a pot. 

I watched her strain to lift it. She had chosen 
the largest and heaviest ; she sighed delicately and 
delicately she panted. She also looked at her 
hands, and held them up for me to see the lines 
of brown on the pink. I put my hands in my 
pockets and said most sulkily, as I turned away 
towards the house, — 

“ All right. It was n’t Mrs. Hilary, then.” 

Dolly rose up, seized me by the arm, and made 
me run to the house. 


176 


WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN 


‘‘ Mr. Carter,” she cried, ‘‘ would stop for those 
wretched pots. He*s moved all except two, but 
he’s broken three. Is n’t he stupid ? ” 

“You are an old ass. Carter,” said Archie. 

“ I believe you ’re right, Archie,” said I. 


13 


177 


CHAPTER XXII. 


A FATAL OBSTACLE. 

WhXt I can’t make out,” I observed (address- 
ing myself to Lady Jane), is why women don’t 
fall in love with me. I ’m all a man should be, 
and a reasonable number of things that he 
should n’t.” 

Lady Jane always tries to be polite. 

“ Perhaps it ’s just that you don’t find it out,” 
she suggested after a moment’s consideration. 

“I shall adopt that view,” said I, cordially. ‘‘ It 
will add a spice to the most formal greeting.” 

‘‘It’ll make you do awfully silly things,” re- 
marked Dolly, with an air of experience. 

Lady Jane was looking thoughtful. “Mamma 
says love comes with marriage,” she went on 
presently. 

“Yes, generally,” I assented. “Not,” I added, 
turning to Dolly, “ that three in a brougham is 
really comfortable, you know.” 

“ One has to invite him sometimes,” Dolly 
murmured. 


173 


A FATAL OBSTACLE 


^^Oh, but I ’m sure mamma meant — 

“ Mamma meant that you ’d been flirting with 
the curate, Jane.” 

“Dorothea dear!” gasped Lady Jane, 

“The secret ot love lies, I suppose, in unselfish- 
ness.” (I threw out the suggestion in a tentative 
way.) 

“That’s what makes Archie such a good hus- 
band,” said Dolly. 

“It must, of course, exist on both sides. Lady 
Mickleham.” 

“Oh, no, that’s tiresome. It’s like getting 
through the door, — nobody’ll go first.” 

“True. You spend all your time trying to be 
allowed to do what you don’t want to do ; and the 
other party does the same.” 

“ Mr. Shenton says that the power of sympathy 
is the real secret of it.” Mr. Shenton, by the way, 
is the curate. 

I glanced at Dolly and shook my head ; she 
nodded approvingly. Thus buttressed, I re- 
marked deliberately, — 

“The power of sympathy has wrecked far more 
homes than it has — er — blessed. I would, on 
the whole, back it against the Victoria Cross.” 

“I think I could love a man just for being 
good,” mused Lady Jane. 

“Oh, you impossible kind of an old dear!” 

179 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

Dolly gurgled affectionately. Besides, that *s no 
use to poor Mr. Carter.’* 

“I am not so very bad,” said I. ‘^Come now, 
we’ll run through my vices and — ” 

I think I forgot to water that fern,” said Lady 
Jane, rather suddenly. 

‘‘ There was once a governess — ” I began, 
thinking to beguile Dolly’s leisure with the story. 
Lady Jane had left us. 

I know about that. Mrs. Hilary told me.” 
Then you ’re quite friends now ? ” 

Not particularly, but one must talk about 
something. — There was another girl in love with 
you once, too.” 

“Why not have told me at the time? I should 
have enjoyed it.” 

“ I mustn’t tell you her name.” 

I did not speak for a moment. 

“ Well, then, it was Agatha Hornton.” 

“ Agatha Martin that is ? ” 

“ I suppose she thought that, as you were hope- 
less ” (Dolly was seeming a good deal amused at 
something), “she might as well marry Captain 
Martin.” 

“One can be unhappy without being absurd,” 
said I, rather crossly. “ Dear, dear I ‘ Having 
known me, to decline — ’” 

“ Decline ? I did n’t say she absolutely asked 
you!” i8q 


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A FATAL OBSTACLE 


“ I wish you would read a little poetry some- 
times. Your ignorance cramps my conversation. 
Was she very fond of me?” 

‘‘ She thought you handsomey' said Dolly, con- 
clusively. 

“It was "Sl grande passion? ” 

“ Oh, no. She ’d been very well brought up. 
But she just adored you.” 

“She was a nice girl, — a thoroughly nice girl. 
I never thought much of Martin. Ugly fellow, 
too.” 

“ She used to bore me awfully about you. You 
see, I was her great friend, and she knew she could 
trust me.” 

“ Not to give her away? ” 

“ Yes,” said Dolly, gently caressing the Japan- 
ese pug that the Admiral Commanding on the 
Pacific Station has recently sent her. 

“ It ’s beautiful how you women stand by one 
another,” I observed. “ What was it that particu- 
larly attracted her in me ? ” 

“ I really cannot think,” said Dolly ; “ any 
more than I can think what attracted — Oh, do 
you mind ringing the bell ? It *s Fushahima's 
tea-time.” 

“ I wish she took it a minute later,” said I, as I 
obeyed. “ Martin was a very dull chap, you 
know/' 

i8i 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

Something seems to have set you thinking of 
Captain Martin.” 

“ I met them all coming back from church (they 
were coming back, I mean) a Sunday or two ago. 
Four, are n't there ? ” 

“ Five. Three girls and two boys.” 

Getting big too, are n't they ? ” 

Fine children, Mr. Carter,'' observed Dolly, 
cheerfully. 

“ She was certainly a clever girl — in those 
days.” 

Ah, in those days ! ” Dolly murmured with 
an indulgent smile, — one that means you can go 
on if you like, but that you are obviously rather 
foolish. 

“ Idyllic happiness,” said I, resuming my seat, 

comes to very few of us. Lady Mickleham.” 

‘‘ Well, one marries, or something, you see.” 

“ There is, of course, one 's career.” 

“Archie's quite keen on being an Under- 
secretary.” 

“ I may not understand, but I am willing to 
admire. Why did n’t the girl encourage me I 
expect that 's all I wanted.” 

“ Well, what do you mean by encouragement ? ” 
asked Dolly, pulling Fushahima's ears ; she is 
always alive to the artistic value of the brute 
creation. 


182 


A FATAL OBSTACLE 


" What I mean by it is conveying, how- 
ever delicately, that I was the only man in the 
world she ever did or ever could care for. 

Is n’t that what you used to mean by it. Lady 
Mickleham ? ” 

‘‘ You can take Fushahima, Pattern,” said Dolly. 

‘‘ Yes, my lady.” 

“ Not too much cream in her milk.” 

‘‘ Very good, my lady.” 

“What were you saying, Mr. Carter? ” 

“ I forget, my lady.” 

There was a moment’s silence — sometimes there 
should be. 

Then I took my tea and stood on the hearth- ^ 
rug, drinking it. 

“ Solitude, I believe, has its consolations, when 
one looks at other people’s families. Besides, it ’s 
surprising the number of little luxuries I get for 
nothing.” 

“ For nothing ? ” 

“ Well, out of Mrs. Carter’s dress-allowance. 

It ’s quite moderate, — only four hundred a year, — 
but it keeps a cab, and buys a little drawing, per- 
haps, and so on. It’s a great comfort, I assure 
you.” 

Dolly began to laugh gently. 

“ She ’d have exceeded it, and I never do more 
than anticipate it,” I pursued. 

183 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


I Ve sometimes wondered at your extrava^ 
gance.*’ 

“ Ah, well, you understand it now.” 

‘‘ Did the allowance include frocks for the 
girls?” 

“Pray curb your imagination, Lady Mickle- 
ham.” 

“ You quite shuddered ! ” 

“ I had visions of short stiff frocks and long 
black stockings — like a family group at the Royal 
Academy — all legs and innocence, you know.” 

“Yes, and all named Carter!” sighed Dolly, 
with a commiserating air. 

“ You don’t like the name ? ” 

“ Not much.” 

I looked at Dolly. I think we must have 
smiled. 

“ I might have known there was some such 
reason,” said I. 

“ I do wonder what ’s become of Jane, and why 
they don’t bring Fushahima back,” said Dolly. 

“ It’s always a comfort to get at the real reason 
of anything. Now if my name had been Vavas- 
our — or — ” 

“ I don’t mind ‘ Mr. Carter ’ so much, but 
‘ Mrs. Carter’ sounds horrible,” Dolly explained. 

“ Girls being, as we all know, in the habit of 
writing the competing names in conjunction with 
X84 


A FATAL OBSTACLE 


their own Christian names on the backs of en- 
velopes and the fly-leaves of library books, in 
order to see how they look, I can well understand 
that if it came to a choice between Carter and — ** 

At this point, before I had fully developed my 
remark, Lady Jane came back. She sometimes 
does by accident what the Dowager would do on 
purpose. Heredity, I imagine. 

‘‘ I Ve been thinking about it,** said Lady Jane, 
and I *m quite sure it *s goodness of heart.** 

“ A fatal obstacle ! ** I said, shaking my head 
despondently. 

“ Another ! ** murmured Dolly, with a lift of 
her brows. 

Shining through, you know, Mr. Carter,** 
added Lady Jane. 

I really don*t see the use of continuing the 
conversation.** 

^‘You must encourage him, Dorothea,** said 
Lady Jane, v^ith a smile. 

Dolly laughed ; I won’t swear she did n’t blush 
just a trifle. 

‘‘ Oh, I *ve given up trying to do that long ago, 
Jane dear,” said she. 

She used to succeed far too well, you know. 
Oh, but pray allow me to hand you a cup of tea.” 

I went away soon afterwards. I had to pay a 
call — on the Martins. 

185 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE curate’s bump. 

^^What is the harm?” I asked at lunch, 
being fat ? ” and I looked round the table. 

I had led up to this subject because something 
which fell from Mrs. Hilary Musgrave the other 
day led me to suppose that I might appear to be 
growing stouter than I used to be. 

“It doesn’t matter in a man,” said Nellie 
Phaeton. 

“That,” I observed, “is merely part of the 
favourite pretence of your sex.” 

“ And what ’s that, Mr. Carter ? ” asked Dolly. 

“ That you ’re indifferent to a pleasing appear- 
ance in man. It won’t go down.” 

“It would if you ate less,” said Dolly, wilfully 
misunderstanding me. 

“Napoleon was fat,” remarked Archie; he is 
studying history. 

“ Mamma is rather fat,” said Lady Jane, break- 
ing a long silence ; her tone seemed to imply that 
it was a graceful concession on the Dowager’s part, 

i86 


THE CURATE’S BUMP 


" I should n’t say you ever had much of a 
figure,” observed Dolly, gazing at me dispassion- 
ately. 

“ Mamma,” resumed Lady Jane, with an amia- 
ble desire to give me useful information, “ drinks 
nothing but lemonade. I make it hot for her 
and — ” 

“ I should like to do that,*' said I, longingly. 

“It’s the simplest thing in the world,” cried 
Lady Jane. “ You can do it for yourself. You 
just take — ” 

“ A pretty girl,” I murmured absently. “I — 
I beg your pardon. Lady Jane. You see. Miss 
Phaeton is opposite and my thoughts wandered.” 

“ It *s no use talkin' sensibly where you are,” said 
Miss Nellie, very severely, and she rose from the 
table. 

“Won't anyone have any rice pudding?” 
asked Archie, appealingly. 

“If I were a camel I would,” said I. 

“Why a camel, Mr. Carter?” asked Lady 
Jane. 

“ A camel. Lady Jane, is so constructed that it 
could keep one exclusively for rice pudding.” 

“ One what, Mr. Carter ? ” 

I strolled to the window, where Dolly stood 
looking out. 

“Dear Jane!” said Dolly. “She never sees 
anything.” 187 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“ I wish there were more like her,” said I, cor- 
dially. She does n’t inherit it from her mother, 
though.” 

‘‘No, the Dowager sees a great deal more than 
there is there,” laughed Dolly, glancing at me. 

“ But fortunately,” said I, “ not all there is in 
other places.” 

“Mamma says — ” we heard Lady Jane re- 
marking at the table. We strolled out into the 
garden. 

“Now, isn’t that provoking?” cried Dolly. 
“ They have n’t rolled the tennis lawn, and the 
people will be here directly.” 

“Shall Task Archie to ask somebody to get 
somebody ? ” 

“ They ’ve all gone to dinner, I expect. Sup- 
pose you roll it, Mr. Carter. It’ll be so good 
for you. Exercise is what you want.” 

“ Exercise is, no doubt, what I need,” said I, 
doubtfully eying the roller. 

“ It ’s the same thing,” said Dolly. 

“ It ’s an Eternal Antithesis,” said I, taking off 
my coat. 

I began to roll. Dolly stood watching me for 
a moment. Then she went indoors. I went on 
rolling. Presently, raising my eyes from my task, 
I found the curate looking on ; he was in flannels 
and carried a racket. 


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THE CURATE’S BUMP 


" Although,” I observed to the curate, I have 
convinced my reason that there is no harm in 
being fat, yet, sooner than be fat, I roll. Can 
you explain that?” 

“ Reason is not everything,” said the curate. 

‘^Your cloth obliges you to that,” said I, 
suspiciously. 

‘‘ I ’m in flannels to-day,” enjoined the curate, 
with a smile. 

I liked that. I loosed my hold of the roller 
and took the curate’s arm. We began to walk 
up and down. 

There is also,” said I, ‘‘romance! ” 

“There’s little enough of that for most of 
us,” said the curate. 

“There has been too much for some of us,” 
I returned. “ But the lawn is smooth where the 
roller has been. The bumps — the pleasant 
bumps — are gone.” 

“They spoilt the game,” observed the curate. 

“ They made the game,” said I, frowning a 
little. 

There was silence for a minute. Then the 
curate asked, — 

“ Is Lady Jane going to play to-day ? ” 

“ I seemed like Fate with that roller,” said I. 
“ Or like Time.” 

The curate sniiled absently, 

189 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


" Or like Morality/’ I pursued. 

The curate smiled indulgently ; he was in 
flannels, good man. 

As to Lady Jane/’ said I, recollecting myself, 
‘‘ I don’t know.” 

It ’s of no consequence,” murmured the 
curate. 

At once I knew that it was of consequence — 
to the curate. But my thoughts drifted in another 
direction, and, when I emerged from the reverie, I 
saw Lady Jane and the curate strolling together 
on the lawn, and Lady Mickleham approaching 
me in a white gown ; she carried a red parasol. 

“ Archie and Nellie will be out directly,” said 
she, “ and then you can begin.” 

“ They can,” said I, putting on my coat and 
lighting a cigarette. 

“ Look at that poor dear man with Jane ! ” ex- 
claimed Dolly. “ Now should you have thought 
that Jane was the sort of person to — ? ” 

“ Everybody,” said I, “ is the sort of person — 
if the other person is.” 

“ Of course he knows it ’s hopeless. The 
Dowager would n’t hear of it.” 

Really ? And she hears of so many things ! ” 

Dolly, after a contemptuous glance, began to 
inspect the lawn. I retired into the shade and sat 
down. Lady Jane and the curate strolled a little 
190 


THE CURATE’S BUMP 


further off. Presently I was roused by an accus- 
ing cry from Dolly. 

“ She’s found a bump,” said I to myself^ shak- 
ing my head. 

“You can never do things properly/’ said 
Dolly, walking up to me. 

“ I certainly can’t do many things in the way I 
should prefer,” I admitted. 

“ You ’ve left a great bump in the middle of the 
Court.” 

My eyes strayed from Dolly to Lady Jane and 
the curate, and thence back to Dolly. 

“ It ’s not my bump,” said I ; “ it ’s the curate’s.” 

“ You ’re getting into the habit,” remarked 
Dolly, “ of being unintelligible. I ’m sure there ’s 
nothing clever in it. I met a man the other day 
who said he never understood what you meant.” 

“You’d understand if you’d stayed; why did 
you go away ? ” 

“To change,” answered Dolly. 

I was pleased. 

“It’s an old trick of yours,” said I. 

“ What did you mean by the bump being the 
curate’s ? ” asked Dolly, returning to the point. 

I entered into an explanation. There was 
plenty of time ; the curate and Lady Jane were 
strolling, the click of billiard balls through the 
open windows accounted for Nellie and Archie. 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


I see,” said Dolly. ‘‘ Poor man ! Do you 
think he ’d like it left ? ” 

I walked leisurely towards the roller, Dolly, 
following me. 

If it were my bump,” said I, laying hold of 
the roller, and looking at Lady Mickleham. 

Lady Mickleham smiled — under protest. It is 
a good enough variety of smile. 

“ If it were my bump,” said I, I should re- 
duce it — so — and so again,” and twice I passed the 
roller gently over the bump. 

“It ’s awfully small now,” said Dolly ; and her 
voice sounded regretful. 

“It’s nHot so large as it was,” said I, cheerfully. 

Dolly l^t down her parasol with a jerk. 

“You Ve horribly disagreeable to-day,” she said. 

I leant on the handle of the roller and smiled. 

“ You ’re very rude and — and — ” 

“ Nobody,” said I, “ likes to be told that he has 
no figure.” 

“ You are an Apollo, Mr. Carter,” said Dolly. 

That was handsome enough. 

“ I would let it alone, if it were my bump,” 
said I. “ Hang these rollers ! ” 

“ It is your bump,” said Dolly. 

As she spoke Archie came out of the billiard 
room. Lady Jane and the curate hastened to join 
us. Archie inspected the lawn. 

192 


THE CURATE’S BUMP 


Why, it ’s been rolled ! ” he cried. 

‘‘ I rolled it,” said I, proudly. 

^^Jovel” said Archie. “Hullo, though, old 
chap, you have n*t been over here.” 

He had found the bump. 

“ I have been over there,” said I, “ oftener than 
anywhere else.” 

“ Give me the — ” 

“ Now, Archie, do begin to play,” said Dolly, 
suddenly. 

“ Oh, well, one does n’t hurt,” said Archie. 

“ It won’t hurt much,” said the curate ; upon 
which I smiled at Lady Jane. 

“ What is it, Mr. Carter ? ” she asked. 

“ He ’s so right, you know,” said I. 


13 


*93 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


ONE WAY IN. 

I HAD a very curious dream the other night. 
In fact, I dreamt that I was dead. I passed 
through a green baize door and found myself in 
a small square room. Opposite me was another 
door, inscribed ‘‘ Elysian Fields,” and in front of 
it, at a large table with a raised ledge, sat Rhada- 
manthus. As I entered, I saw a graceful figure 
vanish through the door opposite. 

It ’s no use trying to deceive me,” I observed. 
‘‘ That was Mrs. Hilary, I think ; if you don’t 
mind, I ’ll join her.” 

“I ’m afraid I must trouble you to take a seat, 
for a few moments, Mr. Carter,” said Rhadaman- 
thus, “ while I run over your little account.” 

“Any formalities which are usual,” I murmured 
politely, as I sat down. 

Rhadamanthus turned over the leaves of a large 
book. 

“ Carter — Samuel Travers, is n’t it?” he asked. 
194 


ONE WAY IN 


‘‘Yes. For goodness' sake don't confuse me 
with Vincent Carter. He only paid five shillings 
in the pound." 

“Your case presents some peculiar features, 
Mr. Carter," said Rhadamanthus. “ I hope I 
am not censorious, but — well, that fine at Bow- 
street?" 

“ I was a mere boy," said I, with some warmth, 
“ and my solicitor grossly mismanaged the case." 

“ Well, well ! " said he, soothingly. “ But 
have n't you spent a great deal of time at Monte 
Carlo ? " 

“A man must be somewhere," said I. 

Rhadamanthus scratched his nose. 

“ I should have wasted the money anyhow," I 
added. 

“ I suppose you would," he conceded. “ But 
what of this caveat lodged by the Dowager Lady 
Mickleham ? That 's rather serious, you know ; 
is n't it now — joking apart ? " 

“ J am disappointed," I remarked, “ to find a 
man of your experience paying any attention to 
such an ill-natured' old woman." 

“ We have our rules," he replied, “ and I 'm 
afraid, Mr. Carter, that until that caveat is 
removed — " 

“You don't mean that ? " 

“ Really, I 'm afraid so." 

19s 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


“Then I may as well go back/’ said I, taking 
my hat. 

At this moment there was a knock at the door. 

“Although I can’t oblige you with an order 
of admission,” said Rhadamanthus, very civilly, 
“ perhaps it would amuse you to listen to a case 
or two. There ’s no hurry, you know. You ’ve 
got lots of time before you.” 

“It will be an extremely interesting experience,” 
said I, sitting down again. 

The door opened, and, as I expected (I don’t 
know why, but it happens like that in dreams), 
Dolly Mickleham came in. She did not seem to 
see me. She bowed to Rhadamanthus, smiled, 
and took a chair immediately opposite the table. 

“ Mickleham — Dorothea — Countess of — ” 
she said. 

“Formerly, I think, Dolly Foster?” asked 
Rhadamanthus. 

“ I don’t see what that ’s got to do with it,” 
said Dolly. 

“ The account runs on,” he explained, and 
began to consult his big book. Dolly leant back 
in her chair, slowly peeling off her gloves. Rhada- 
manthus shut the book with a bang. 

“ It ’s not the least use,” he said decisively. 
“It would n’t be kind to pretend that it was. Lady 
Mickleham.” 


196 


ONE WAY IN 


Dear, dear ! ” said Dolly. “ What *s the 
matter ? ” 

“ Half the women in London have petitioned 
against you.*' 

Have they really ? ” cried Dolly, to all 
appearance rather delighted. What do they 
say, Mr. Rhadamanthus ? Is it in that book ? 
Let me look.’’ And she held out her hand. 

‘‘The book’s too heavy for you to hold,” said 
he. 

“ I ’ll come round,” said Dolly. So she went 
round and leant over his shoulder and read the 
book. 

“What’s that scent you’ve got on?” asked 
Rhadamanthus. 

“ Bouquet du diable,” said she. (I had never 
heard of the perfume before.) “ Is n’t it sweet ? ” 

“ I have n’t smelt it since I was a boy,” sighed 
Rhadamanthus. 

“ Poor old thing ! ” said Dolly. “ I *m not 
going to read all this, you know.” And, with a 
somewhat contemptuous smile, she walked back to 
her chair. “ They ought to be ashamed of them- 
selves,” she added, as she sat down. “ It ’s just 
because I ’m not a fright.” 

“Aren’t you a fright?” asked Rhadamanthus. 
“ Where are my spectacles ? ” 

He put them on and looked at Dolly. 

197 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


" I must go in, you know,*' said Dolly, smiling 
at Rhadamanthus. “ My husband has gone in ! 

‘‘ I should n’t have thought you ’d consider that 
conclusive,” said he, with a touch of satire in his 
tone. 

Don’t be horrid,” said Dolly, pouting. 

There was a pause. Rhadamanthus examined 
Dolly through his spectacles. 

“ This is a very painful duty,” said he, at last. 
“ I have sat here for a great many years, and I 
have seldom had a more painful duty.” 

“ It ’s very absurd of you,” said Dolly. 

I can’t help it, though,” said he. 

Do you really mean that I ’m not to go in ? ” 

I do, indeed,” said Rhadamanthus. 

Dolly rose. She leant her arms on the raised 
ledge which ran along the table, and she leant her 
chin on her hands. 

‘‘ Really ^ ” she said. 

‘‘ Really,” said he, looking the other way. 

A sudden change came over Dolly’s face. Her 
dimples vanished : her eyes grew pathetic and 
began to shine rather than to sparkle : her lip 
quivered just a little. 

‘‘ You *re very unkind,” she said in an extremely 
low tone. I had no idea you would be so 
unkind.” 

Rhadamanthus seemed very uncomfortable. 

J93 


ONE WAY IN 


‘‘ Don’t do that,” he said quite sharply, fidget- 
ing with the blotting-paper. 

Dolly began to move slowly round the table. 
Rhadamanthus sat still. When she was standing 
close by him, she put her hand lightly on his arm 
and said, — 

Please do, Mr. Rhadamanthus.” 

‘‘It’s as much as my place is worth,” he 
grumbled. 

Dolly’s eyes shone still, but the faintest little 
smile began to play about her mouth. 

“ Some day,” she said (with total inappropriate- 
ness, now I come to think of it, though it did not 
strike me so at the time), “ you ’ll be glad to re- 
member having done a kind thing. When you ’re 
old — because you are not really old now — you 
will say, ‘ I ’m’ glad I did n’t send poor Dolly 
Mickleham away crying.’ ” 

Rhadamanthus uttered an inarticulate sound, — 
half impatience, half, I fancy, something else. 

“ We are none of us perfect, I dare say. If I 
asked your wife — ” 

“ I have n’t got a wife,” said Rhadamanthus. 

“ That ’s why you ’re so hard-hearted,” said 
Dolly. “ A man who ’s got a wife is never hard 
on other women.” 

There was another pause. Then Rhadamanthus, 
looking straight at the blotting-paper, said, — 

199 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


Oh, well, don’t bother me. Be off with 
you ; ” and as he spoke, the door behind him 
opened. 

Dolly’s face broke out into sudden sunshine. 
Her eyes danced, her dimples capered over her 
chin. 

‘‘ Oh, you old dear ! ” she cried ; and, stooping 
swiftly, she kissed Rhadamanthus. “You’re 
horribly bristly ! ” she laughed ; and then, before 
he could move, she ran through the door. 

I rose from my seat, taking my hat and stick in 
my hand. I felt, as you may suppose, that I had 
been there long enough. When I moved, 
Rhadamanthus looked up, and with an attempt at 
unconsciousness observed, — 

“We will proceed with your case now, if you 
please, Mr. Carter.” 

I looked him full in the face. Rhadaman- 
thus blushed. I pursued my way towards the 
door. 

“ Stop ! ” he said, in a blustering tone. “ You 
can’t go there, you know.” 

I smiled significantly. 

“ Is n’t it rather too late for that sort of thing ? ” 
I asked. “ You seem to forget that I have been 
here for the last quarter of an hour.” 

“ I did n’t know she was going to do it,” he 
protested. 


200 


ONE WAY IN 


"Oh, of course,” said I, "that will be your 
story. Mine, however, I shall tell in my own 
way.” 

Rhadamanthus blushed again. Evidently he 
felt that he was in a delicate position. We were 
standing thus, facing one another, when the door 
began to open again, and Dolly put her head out. 

" Oh, it ’s you, is it ? ” she said. " I thought I 
heard your voice. Come along and help me to 
find Archie.” 

" This gentleman says I *m not to come in,” 
said I. 

" Oh, what nonsense ! Now, you really must n’t 
be silly, Mr. Rhadamanthus — or I shall have to 
— Mr. Carter, you were n’t there, were you ? ” 

" I was — and a more interesting piece of scan- 
dal it has seldom been — ” 

" Hush ! I did n’t do anything. Now, you 
know I did n’t, Mr. Carter ! ” 

"No,” said I, "you didn’t. But Rhadaman- 
thus, taking you unawares — ” 

" Oh, be off with you — both of you ! ” cried 
Rhadamanthus. 

" That ’s sensible,” said Dolly. " Because, you 
know, there really is n’t any harm in poor Mr. 
Carter.” 

Rhadamanthus vanished. Dolly and I went 
inside. 


20X 


THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 


I suppose everything will be very different 
here,” said Dolly, and I think she sighed. 

Whether it were or not I don't know, for just 
then I awoke, and found myself saying aloud, in 
answer to the dream- voice and the dream-face 
(which had not gone altogether with the dream), 
“Not everything,” — a speech that, I agree, I 
ought not to have made, even though it were only 
in a dream. 


202 





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By ANTHONY HOPE 

I 2 MO. $1.50 EACH. 

SStb Impression of 

THE PRISONER OF ZENDA 

With five full-page illustrations by Charles Dana Gibson, and 
^ a view and plan of the castle by Howard Inch. 

' “The ingenious plot, the liveliness and spirit of 
the narrative, and its readable style.” 

‘ story, which cannot be too warmly recommended 

to all who love a tale that stirs the blood. Perhaps not the least 
among its many good qualities is the fact that its chivalry is of the 
nineteenth, not of the sixteenth century ; that it is a tale of brave 
men and true, and of a fair woman of to-day. The Englishman who 
saves the king ... is as interesting a knight as was Bayard. , . . The 
story holds the reader s attention from first to last.” 

Review ef Reviews : “A more gallant, entrancing story has seldom 
been written.” 

16 tb Impression of 

RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

A Sequel to “The Prisoner of Zenda 

With eight full-page illustrations by Charles Dana Gibson. 

Critic: “Better than ‘The Prisoner of Zenda.’” 

. Diihmar in New York Times Saturday Review: “ Delight- 

fully stirring and irresponsible, ... a sequel for a wonder as vigorous 
and powerful as its original. ... It seems to bring romance to life 
again.” 

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high standard of chivalrous love which was the charm of that romance. 

. . . Mr. Hope]s heroes are never dull These ‘ Zenda ’ stories 

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by the ‘sense of honor.’” 

Geo. W, Smalley in New York Herald: “A story which lays a 
spell upon you. The animation is unceasing, and so, therefore, is the 
interest. . . . Mr. Hope has not lost his old deftness in dialogue. . . . 
The scene between the two men [Sapt and James] after the murder 
... is a masterpiece.” 


of 


THE DOLLY 


I7tb Impression 

DIALOGUES 

dialogues. 


Including the four additional 
H. C. Christy. 


With a frontispiece by 


Boston Transcript: “Characterized by delicious drollery. . . , 
Beneat h the surface play of words lies a tragi-comedy of life. . . . There 
, is infinite suggestion in every line.” 

7tb Impression of 

FATHER STAFFORD 

A Lover’s Fate and Friend’s Counsel. 

Literary World : “ It has all the quality of his later work, the fun, 
the audacity, the epigrammatic touch, the clearly accented characters.’* 
Bookman: “It is marked by all of Mr. Hope’s preternatural clev- 
erness.” 

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vU *oa 


(ovsr) 


By ANTHONY HOPE 

Author of the Prisoner of Zenda 

With Frontispieces. i8mo. 75c bach 

I2tb Impression of 

THE INDISCRETION OF THE DUCHESS 

With frontispiece by Wechsler. 

The Critic : “ May be classed with ‘ The Prisoner of Zenda,’ and 
shares with that story the unabated interest from first page to last, and 
the superb handling of the romantic and adventurous.” 

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and as entertainingly improbable [ as ‘ Zenda Will be read 

at a sitting by a multitude of romance lovers.” 

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fascination of an earlier day; an air of good faith, almost of religious 
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wit, if he were not a romancer.” 

Iltb Impression of 

A MAN OF MARK 

With frontispiece by Wechsler. 

Li/e : ” More plentifully charged with humor, and the plot is every 
whit as original as that of Zenda. . . . The whole game of playing at 
revolution is pictured with such nearness and intimacy of view that 
the wildest things happen as though they were every-day occurrences. 
. . . The charmingly wicked Christina is equal to anything that Mr. 
Hope has done, with the possible exception of the always piquant 
Dolly.” 

lOtb Impression of 

A CHANGE OF AIR 

With portrait and notice of the author. 

New Vo*'k Times: “A highly clever performance, with little 
touches that recall both Balzac and Meredith. ... Is endowed with 
exceeding originality.” 

. Philadelphia Times: “The tragic undercurrent but increases the 
charm of the pervading wit and humor of the tale, which embodies 
a study of character as skillful and true as anything we have lately 
had, but at the same time so simple and unpretentious as to be very 
welcome indeed amid the flood of inartistic analysis which we are 
compelled to accept in so many recent novels.” 

Stb Impression of 

SPORT ROYAL, and Other Stories 

With frontispiece by W. B. Russell. 

Atlantic Monthly; “The leading tale, which fills half the book, 
is in its author's lightest and most entertaining vein.” 

HENRY HOLT.&.CO. 

vii’oa 


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good one— healthy, humorous, clever, simple, and attractive in 
all its phases.*' — Brooklyn Eagle. 


THE 

LIGHTNING CONDUCTOR 

THE STRAHCE ADVENTURES OF A MOTOR CAR 

EDITED BY 

C. N. AND A. M. WILLIAMSON 
x2mo, $1.50. 

“Interesting and clever ... it will find a warm welcome. 
The plot is wholly new and decidedly entertaining. . . . The 
situations that the Englishman, madly in love with his employer, 
is placed in are most humorous. One cannot foresee how the 
plot is to be untangled, but the way in which this is done is quite 
the most clever thing in the book.” — Springfield Republican. 

“Will probably produce such a satisfactory illusion that many 
may be able to accept its authenticity without question. Pos- 
sibly it is at least ‘ founded on fact ’ . . . lively without being 
flippant. The dialogue is sufficiently suggestive to keep the 
curiosity well up to the scratch.” — Times' Saturday Review. 

“ Incidentally there are some delightful descriptions of the 
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beaten path of ordinary travel. The little romance, which 
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By Owen Seaman, author of The Battle of the Bays*' 
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“ He hits off some of the peculiarities of some of the best writers 
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“ Capital fooling . . . remarkably clever caricatures. He repro- 
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reader.” — New York Times' Saturday Review. 

“A series of excellent burlesques and parodies. . . . Never have 
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Times' Saturday Review. 

THE WINDING ROAD 

By Elizabeth Godfrey. 12 mo. $1.50 

Referring to the “ best selling novels,” The Literary World 
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undoubted talent has been shown. ... It shows that Elizabeth 
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“ This charming story. ... A prose poem .” — Philadelphia Times. 

“ A welcome relief from the current trend of fiction.” — Book-Buyer. 

“Miss Godfrey has written nothing but what was good, but ‘The 
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604 pp. 8vo. ^^2.50 

As the author covers so many subjects, he of course is obliged to 
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H P>J RY HOIT ^ rn 29 West 23d street, TTew York 
nClNlXl nkJLl CX 378 Wabask Aveaue, Chicago 

VIII *02 


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